They Dance Alone
by tryny
Summary: When Colonel Mayborne reveals that not every member of his offworld team made it back through the Stargate, SG-1 must mount a rescue mission that lands them squarely in the middle of Goa'uld-occupied world. Sequel to Ghost Story, but can stand alone
1. Chapter 1

A/N – This is a sequel to Ghost Story. In keeping with the theme that inspired the first story I found inspiration from lyrics by Sting. All Stargate SG-1 characters are not mine. Takes place just after S3 episode Shades of Gray.

_Dancing with the missing_

_Dancing with the dead_

_Dancing with the invisible ones_

_Their anguish is unsaid_

_Dancing with their fathers_

_Dancing with their sons_

_Dancing with their husbands_

_They dance alone_

_They dance alone_

They Dance Alone (The Gueca Solo) – Sting – Nothing Like the Sun Copyright 1987 A&M Records

"Hello, Captain Uziel." The woman sitting on a park bench was jarred from her missive by an unfamiliar voice. The soft breeze around her played the leaves of the trees like a jazz saxophonist. She turned her head to the intrusion, but didn't recognize the man. His cool blue eyes and graying hair framed an odd round face. He smiled at her with crooked teeth in an entirely too-friendly manner. Her level gaze never shifted and she offered no greeting in return.

"My name is Colonel Harry Mayborne." He stood next to her bench and she sensed suddenly there were others behind her. She decided to keep her eyes on the man who introduced himself. She made a quick mental note of his uniform. This man was in charge and the two she could sense behind her were most likely there for _his_ protection. She ignored them for the time being.

"What do you want, Colonel Harry Mayborne?" The breeze stiffened, blowing her long brown hair into her face. She tucked it behind her ear to keep it from obstructing her view.

"I want to offer you something." As he reached in his jacket to retrieve something from his pocket she stiffened perceptibly. Her stormy gray eyes never wavered, but every muscle in her body prepared her to defend herself. The colonel slowly and deliberately withdrew a photograph from his breast pocket. She allowed herself no sense of relief. She recognized his uniform: this man was from the US Air Force. The last time she'd met a man from the Air Force…

His voice interrupted her thoughts, "I believe you know this man?" He handed her the picture.

She took the picture in her hand and only then did she allow her eyes to fall away from the man standing in front of her. The hand that held the picture tensed every-so-slightly. Her mouth went dry and suddenly her entire measure of self-control threatened to flag. Then, as quickly as the emotions brought on by seeing a picture of her dead husband slammed to the surface, she marshaled her training and shoved them aside. It would have taken quite the trained eye to notice her split-second response to the image in the photograph, and Colonel Mayborne had just such an eye.

"Who is this?" The sound of her voice worked to further cement her tactic. She knew now for certain she was in danger, but the evenness of her tone betrayed nothing. Fifteen years of training and service to her own country, most of them spent in special forces, had given her everything she needed to handle this situation.

"Captain, please," Mayborne tilted his head as if he was patiently dealing with a lying child. He pointed to the picture, "We both know this is Emil Uziel, your husband. We both know that you came to this country from Israel seeking information about his disappearance. And," he paused dramatically, "we both know that Colonel Jack O'Neill told you he was dead."

Shaboni Uziel tried desperately to keep a soldier's perspective as the strange events unfolded, but she was afraid that she was losing the battle. "Are you to be telling me now that he is _not_ dead?" She inwardly winced at the edge of anger in her tone. Mayborne was manipulating her, but she found that despite knowledge of his intention she couldn't help the feelings forcing their way to the surface.

"Captain Uziel, I have a great deal more than that to tell you. But I cannot tell you here. If you want to know what I have for you then you will have to come with us…now." Harry Mayborne tried to keep the self-satisfied grin off his face, but failed miserably. It had been far easier to play this ex-IDF, ex-special forces soldier than he'd anticipated. Perhaps she'd suffered permanent damage from what had been done to her during her desperate hunt for answers to her husband's disappearance. He would have to make sure that she was still as solid as she once had been before he put her with one of his own off-world teams. Something in his gut told him that he needn't worry: she would make an excellent asset once he was through with her.

* * *

Daniel Jackson realized that though he'd been staring at the page in front of him for some time he simply hadn't read a thing on it. He closed the book with a moderately irritable "thunk" and tossed it on the table in front of him. Sitting back on his stool he closed his eyes and removed his glasses.

'_So, this friendship thing we've been working on?'_

'_Not much of a foundation there, is there?'_

Jack's words replayed themselves in his thoughts for the billionth time. He knew now that Jack had been playing to the unseen audience who had bugged his house, but the pain of the words lingered. Jack had been so convincing that Daniel had simply walked out. No more words. No more trying to understand, to reach out and connect with this man he'd trusted with his life and, on occasion, his pain. The comment had cut so deep Daniel had simply shut down. It was one thing to lose someone because they were taken from you, but it was another thing entirely to feel like you lost someone only to find out you'd never had them to begin with.

Not much of a foundation. No friendship. No understanding. The feeling he'd felt in the moments before he flipped the light switch on his emotions was maddening. Everything he thought he knew was suddenly unrecognizable. He'd found a family in the people he worked with. Not an easy thing to believe in when every single vestige of family he'd ever had had been viciously ripped away from him, forcefully and finally. The trust he had for them had created itself against his own will. In those early days he tried with all his might to keep from feeling _anything_ for the other members of SG-1, but it had seemed that the bond of their common goals, and often the horrible circumstances in which they found themselves, had won out over his determination. He cared more deeply for the three people on his team than for anyone else alive. His friendship with Jack O'Neill had probably been the single brightest part of his life since he'd lost his wife. Their relationship had given Daniel a friend, mentor, uncle, and protector all rolled into one crusty colonel wrapper, and Jack O'Neill had torn all that away. It had all been there one minute and the next it had all been snatched away like everyone else. The madness had been the lingering question that sizzled in the recesses of his consciousness: had he completely misjudged everything he thought about his relationships with all the people he held dear? Sam, Teal'c, everyone.

So despite knowing the reason for the man's harsh words and cold demeanor, Daniel simply couldn't shake the effect it had had on him. Jack had explained himself with the obvious discomfort of a man trying to talk to another man about his feelings, but there had been no such discomfort when he'd delivered the death-blow to their friendship in that house.

Lost in thought, Daniel didn't notice Major Carter standing in the doorway of his office watching him. Deciding she should probably rescue Daniel from whatever he was torturing himself with she knocked on the doorframe, "Hey, there. Wanna grab some coffee?"

Daniel opened his eyes and snapped back to the present. Blinking as if to clear the cobwebs, he replaced his glasses and turned to see Sam, his friend -_'Careful there, a week ago you would have sworn on your life that Jack was your friend. Perhaps you shouldn't be so loose with that concept'_ - staring at him expectantly.

"Daniel?"

"Sam?"

"I asked if you wanted to get some coffee." She stepped over to the table to take a peek at what he was working on.

"Uh, well, no actually. I have some here…" Daniel started hunting around his work area for a mug that would support his assertion, lifting books and tablets and shuffling materials like a man patting himself down for his keys. At last he located the mug behind his monitor and took a big swig of coffee to punctuate his point.

And immediately gagged and spit the cold, stale coffee back into the cup.

Sam laughed gently at his antics, her blue eyes lighting up her toothy smile. Daniel set the offensive drink back on the table and winced playfully. "Okay, maybe one cup." He got up from his stool to follow Sam to the commissary. As they rounded the door Sam ran head-long into Colonel O'Neill.

The colonel reached out his hands and shielded himself from the three-person pile-up. "Sorry, Sir!" Sam recoiled and collided with Daniel as he slammed into her back. Once the collective 'OOOFs' had been breathed and they'd straightened out whose arms and legs belonged to whom, the colonel admonished them.

"Where's the fire, Carter?"

"We were just going to get some coffee," Daniel said stone-faced.

"Well you don't have time now. Hammond sent for us." Jack lowered his brow at Daniel's surly tone.

They followed Jack to the briefing room and joined Teal'c at the long table.

Jack opened, "So what's up, General?"

General Hammond, their base commander, paused for a moment, still trying to figure out exactly how to inform his flagship team of the news he'd just been given.

"I've just received word that Colonel Mayborne has made contact with the Secretary of the Air Force. Apparently, he's called in every marker he has left in the intelligence community and SAF/OS sent an aid to meet with Mayborne at his holding cell."

The collective curiosity of SG-1 was piqued by his opening, if only in the same manner as one who tends to crane one's neck as they drive by a car accident. They all knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if it started with Colonel Harry Mayborne it was going to end badly.

"Whatever he told that aid seemed to have some kind of desired effect. Mayborne has been moved from the maximum-security facility where all the shadow organization team members are being held. He's currently in the brig at Peterson." The general paused briefly just before he delivered the part of the briefing that he was sure would elicit less-than-favorable responses from the individuals before him. "I was contacted by SAF/OS and instructed to cooperate with his request."

He didn't want to hear the answer, but Jack took a deep breath and asked the question anyway, "And what exactly is his request?"

General Hammond looked Jack straight in the eyes and said, "He is requesting that you meet with him to plan a rescue mission for a missing member of his team."

Daniel and Sam exchanged confused looks. Teal'c inclined his head slightly in askance, "Were not all of his recruits accounted for when you returned through the Stargate?"

"We thought they were."

Jack argued, "General, I personally read every single jacket for every person he recruited. There were no personnel missing when we came back through the 'Gate."

"That's because the individual we're talking about didn't have an official Military Personnel Records Jacket." Hammond paused again, still not wanting to deliver the specifics he knew would trouble them.

Daniel, picking up the direction of the general's comment, added, "Because this person isn't US military personnel."

"That's correct."

Jack sat unmoving…unasking. He was sure that wherever this was going was way worse than simply having to meet with Mayborne. He didn't want to hear it. He seriously didn't want to hear another word.

The general took one last breath before he spoke the words Jack was steeling himself against, "Captain Shaboni Uziel seems to have been recruited at some point by Mayborne and he claims she has been missing since a week before your operation, Colonel."

Jack's mouth hardened into a fierce line. He once again had the sensation that he wanted to kill Mayborne with his bare hands. Questions raced in circles in his thoughts, but he did his best to ignore them. Oh, he would definitely be having a talk with Mayborne.

Daniel's voice carved through his angry silence, "General, that's four weeks!" He didn't need to add the even more obvious fact that after going missing that long it would be no small miracle if she could be found, let alone saved.

"I realize that Dr. Jackson, but SG-1 is going to do whatever it can. I don't know how, or why, SAF/OS thinks this is so important, but he has ordered me to cooperate. Colonel, I want you to meet with Mayborne this evening and report back to me in the morning. We will brief at 0900. Dismissed." The General stood and SG-1 stood with him. He strode from the room, but the four of them remained.

"Jack, why on earth would she be working with Mayborne? The NID killed her husband and tried to kill her!" Distracted by the situation, Daniel's anger with Jack and the damage to their relationship was replaced by the need for answers.

"I don't know, Daniel." Jack clearly didn't have any answers for Daniel, but tried very hard to keep from sounding testy. "But I'm going to find out. Teal'c, grab a hat. You're with me." And he was gone. Teal'c followed, leaving Sam and Daniel standing there in shocked silence.

"None of this makes sense." Sam shook her head. "Shaboni told Colonel O'Neill that she didn't think she would ever fully recover from what the NID did to her and her husband. She chose to turn down the offer to work with the SGC because it was the first time in her life that she had the opportunity to do something besides military work. The colonel hasn't spoken of her in quite a long time. I think they lost touch."

It wasn't unusual for Sam to work through her thoughts out loud, but Daniel wasn't listening. He was staring through the observation window at the Stargate below them, lost somewhere in the past. His mind wandered back to the few short days after SG-1 had returned from Netu. Jack had wrecked his truck on a mountain pass going toward his house. In the process he had managed to hit Shaboni. Though she'd been only mildly injured by the accident, her condition had deteriorated sharply over the course of the next few days. They'd found her lying unconscious on the same stretch of road two days later. She'd expressed enormous fear at the idea of being taken to a hospital, so Jack and Daniel had taken her back to Jack's house. That day they'd discovered that she was former Israeli special forces. She had been on that mountain searching for answers to the disappearance of her husband, a chemist. After careful digging they learned that he'd been hired by a rogue faction in the NID to help with the creation of biological weapons. When SG-1 had uncovered the NID's actions regarding the Touchstone incident, that same group within the organization had cleaned house: killing off anyone involved in the project and then disappearing. Shaboni's husband had died because of his involvement, but the highly trained and tenacious woman had uncovered enough information to lead her almost the entire way to the SGC.

During her hunt the NID had poisoned her with a biological weapon that was destroyed in the process. In order to protect their investment and continue research, they had abducted Shaboni and experimented on her to understand better how the weapon worked: how, exactly, she would die. SG-1 had led an operation to rescue her, and Harry Mayborne had helped, with a little encouragement from the colonel. Then, when it seemed that all hope was lost and she would die anyway, he'd helped again by providing an antidote to the poisons in her system. After her discovery of the Stargate program it had been decided that she would be offered a job working with them. After all, she had the training. But she refused the offer and had simply disappeared.

Jack had gotten close to the woman. He hadn't ever said anything, but it had been patently obvious to Daniel that they'd shared some kind of connection. When she was abducted carefree and joking Jack had shifted effortlessly into cold and deadly killer Jack. This was a man whose years as a special forces operative gave him a decidedly lethal edge, and who didn't hesitate to use that edge whenever someone he cared about was in harm's way. It wasn't a side of him that Daniel ever got used to seeing. Suddenly, Daniel wondered if that was the Jack he'd encountered the day he'd taken verbal C4 to their friendship. And when the memory of that resurfaced, all kinds of confliction reigned.

"Daniel?" Sam laid a hand on his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Sorry. I was just thinking about when we met Shaboni." He didn't offer that he had been happy for Jack; glad that his friend had shared at least a moment of joy and affection with a woman that he was actually allowed to care for. _'There's that word again, "friend". You better figure out something a little more accurate.'_

"Well, we got to her once. I'm sure Colonel O'Neill will find a way to get to her again." She didn't really sound as if she believed it. She wasn't really sure she did.


	2. Chapter 2

Teal'c and Jack rode in silence on the short trip from Cheyenne Mountain Air Base to Peterson Air Force Base. When they arrived at Peterson they made their way to a building alongside a strip of administrative offices. The utilitarian nature of the building told no secrets about what was held inside, but Jack knew that concrete and steel and bars offered Mayborne nothing but the illusion of security. If he had to walk through walls to get the information he wanted he would find a way. As they entered the building, two airmen who seemed to be expecting them stopped them.

"Colonel O'Neill, would you please sign in and check your weapon?" Jack swallowed as he thought about the request.

His pause caused Teal'c to turn his head and look at the other man fully. Teal'c knew that his friend was angry, but it would be futile to try and fight this procedure. After a couple of very long seconds Jack unholstered his M9, handed it to the airman, and signed in.

The second airman stood and requested, "Please, Sir, if you would follow me." The three of them walked deeper into the recesses of the building. When they arrived at their destination the airman turned to the colonel and informed him, "I will be outside the door, sir, and you should be aware that surveillance has been disconnected. You may talk freely." Jack suddenly understood that this young man, _'impossibly young'_, was an SF and had probably been sent by the general to assure that they could talk…and that the colonel didn't kill Mayborne outright. _'Ah, George you know me too well.'_

Teal'c and Jack entered the dimly lit room and sat down at the metal table. Presently, Colonel Mayborne was brought into the room wearing beige scrub-like pajamas. He had several days' growth dirtying his face and manacles at wrists and ankles. The long series of chains connecting them encircled his waist. Jack thought the image entirely fitting.

"Thank you for coming," he said as he sat in the chair across from them. The airman escorting him retreated through the door and the three men were alone.

"I'm going to give you one chance to answer this question correctly, Mayborne." Jack's voice was low, dangerous. "Where is Captain Uziel?" His mind simultaneously played the memory of him asking that very same question nearly six months earlier in a deserted hangar on this very same base.

"I don't know where she is, Jack."

"Way wrong answer!" The measured tone gone, Jack sprang from his chair, knocking it over, and was on Mayborne in a flash. He didn't bother to threaten the man or display his intention. He simply decked him as hard as he could, knocking the man to the floor. "What the hell did you _do_, Harry?!"

"O'Neill!" Teal'c stood, but did not move. He merely wanted to encourage his friend to regain some measure of control before security forces entered the room and stopped them. There was no need to say the words. The simple command in the intonation of his voice was sufficient.

Jack stopped himself from assaulting Mayborne further…for the time being. He walked slowly and deliberately back to his chair, righting it, and seating himself in it. Once he was certain he was not about to be pummeled to death, Mayborne scraped himself off the floor. He raised handcuffed hands as high as his chains would allow and ducked his head to meet them, wiping a trail of blood that was running from the corner of his mouth.

With zero mirth in his eyes or his voice Jack leveled his gaze on the man across the table and quipped through clenched teeth, "You've got some 'splainin' to do."

"I realize we've been here before, Jack. Do I really need to remind you that I not only helped you free Shaboni from her captors, but I procured an antidote to the poison that was killing her?"

"That would be _Captain Uziel_ to you." Jack took serious exception to Mayborne's use of her first name. "You are going to tell me everything I want to know, starting with how the hell you managed to convince her to work for the organization that killed her husband and nearly killed her. You're going to give me the coordinates of the world where you sent her. And then you're going to rot in prison until they come to execute you for treason."

* * *

It was nearing 0900 and Jack was already seated in the briefing room outside his CO's office. The rest of his team had yet to arrive. He flipped through the briefing file in front of him for the umpteenth time, not really reading the words. He already had all the words committed to memory. He had prepared the file. But, it was impossible for him to sit still. He had provided a detailed summary of Mayborne's intel, including the gate address for the world where Shaboni had disappeared. It had only taken him an hour to prepare the report. After that he'd tried to settle down and get some sleep, but sleep had been mockingly slow to come. And when it had, his dreams were filled with images of the strange and too-often-missing Shaboni Uziel.

At promptly 0900, the remainder of his team filed into the briefing room. He had the distinct impression the three of them had been together. Breakfast, he realized. On most mornings like this the four of them would have grabbed a quick breakfast in the commissary before their briefing. His stomach remained suspiciously quiet. Perhaps the only part of him that felt quiet.

General Hammond entered the room and the four of them stood. Jack made mental notice, once again, of how far Daniel had come in his respect for military rank and file. For nearly the first full year of his service to the SGC he had neglected to stand when their CO had entered the room. Jack had mentioned it to him a couple of times, but had learned that where Daniel was concerned, repeating himself wasn't necessary. Daniel had almost always heard him the first time, but it was a toss up as to what he would decide to care about.

Daniel caught Jack's approving eyes on him and felt a wall slam into place. He didn't want that appreciative look. He didn't want Jack to look at him at all. It hadn't been that many days ago that a look like that from the older man would have felt good enough to keep him going for days. No food, no sleep, just Jack thinking he'd done something good. God! Why did he long for approval from anyone, much less a character as deeply flawed as Jack O'Neill? His face hardened to icy stone.

They sat down and got to work. "Colonel, if you please?" The general indicated that Jack should disclose what he'd discovered.

"Well, Sir, in their infinite wisdom, the NID once again set their sights on obtaining Captain Uziel. And in their infinite stupidity they went about it by lying, cheating, and stealing." He opened his folder and glanced at his notes, though he didn't actually need to remind himself of anything written there. It was merely a moment to consider how he was going to share what he'd discovered. "Uziel…Shaboni," he interrupted himself, "had been living in Denver since she left the SGC six months ago. Mayborne found her when she applied for a driver's license. Apparently the faction within the NID that decided to set up their off-world base issued a directive that Mayborne was to recruit her and bring her under his command. He _claims_ that it wasn't his idea."

"So how did he manage to convince her to join them? I mean I don't think she ever knew that Mayborne was involved with what happened to her, but she wouldn't even join the SGC when it was offered," Sam interjected.

Jack sighed and closed his folder once again. "He told her that we lied to her about the death of her husband." He waited a moment for that to sink in.

"Of course," Daniel commented.

"Oh, there's more," his voice carried the unmistakable edge of anger as it had the night before. "He claimed that the SGC had relocated all the individuals working on the project off-world. The hook was that if she joined his team she would be able to search for him."

General Hammond spoke up, "What information was he able to give you on how she disappeared?"

"I have the gate address to the world where she went to make contact with an asset they were developing: P6C 868. Apparently this world had been under Goa'uld occupation for many centuries, but it had been several generations since they'd seen their 'Lord." He made air quotes around the last word. "They had begun to experiment with developing their own naquada technologies. Mayborne claims they had discovered some interesting applications because they had help from scientists from outlying worlds. He thinks that during the time she was developing this asset she heard about the scientists and simply took off from there hunting down what might be a lead on her husband. His opinion is that she got herself captured by the local Jaffa."

"If that's true, Colonel, what is the likelihood that she'd still be on that planet?" General Hammond wondered.

"Unknown, Sir. Until we know more about the situation on 868…" his voice trailed off.

"Sir," Carter turned to the general, "SG-5 did a recon and survey mission to 868 a couple of months ago. They didn't report anything remotely similar to Mayborne's claims about the people. Colonel Ricks stated that while there were significant naquada deposits and a relatively advanced people for a Goa'uld occupied world, they didn't think there would be enough local support to overturn the Jaffa still occupying their planet. Their mission report stated that they were only allowed to meet with the local population for about twenty minutes before they were escorted back to the Stargate. They said the people asked us not to return. If Shaboni's team managed to make headway with them there is a chance we might be able to help these people."

"I hear you, Major, but right now it is imperative that we focus on locating and returning Captain Uziel to Earth. I would normally agree with your assessment, but I've got the Secretary of the Air Force breathing down my neck about this woman. I don't know what Mayborne told him that made him believe she was so important, but he has indicated that returning her would be a personal favor to him. As long as this mission doesn't interfere with the security of the SGC and our current mandate, we can't afford to turn down the opportunity to have one of the Joint Chiefs owe us one."

"If I am not mistaken, General Hammond, do not the leaders of this country and, indeed this world 'owe us a great many'?" Teal'c questioned.

"Of course they do, Teal'c," Daniel explained, "But they have very short memories. We are only as important as the last time we saved them."

Carter glanced at him and wondered when Daniel had become so cynical. It wasn't that he couldn't be negative on occasion, but the tone in his voice wasn't negative. It was resigned. He was becoming used to the fact that no matter how many times SG-1 saved Earth, the political powers-that-be would never fully appreciate what it was they did or the sacrifices involved. The notion of Daniel being so flippant about their position unnerved Sam to no end.

His tone had not escaped Jack's notice, either, but all he said was, "We're not saving Earth this time, but we _are_ going to save Shaboni." His words filled the room with a finality that told them all the briefing was basically over, but Teal'c had one more question:

"Major Carter, did SG-5 reveal the Goa'uld responsible for the occupation of this world?"

Sam knew the answer immediately, but made a show of trying to remember, not really wanting to say.

"Major?" Jack knew she was faking it.

She looked at the table briefly then met Teal'c's eyes, "Cronus."


	3. Chapter 3

The women were dancing again. They'd done this three times since Shaboni had arrived on this world. She could see out the window of the small tavern where she ate her supper that somehow they wordlessly communicated with one another that it was 'time'. They would stop their work; laying down whatever their hands were occupied with from typing on rudimentary computer terminals, working with textiles and creating garments, fashioning tools, preparing meals, to serving others in the community. They would simply stop. Hands would disappear beneath skirt or pants pockets and each would take a picture, much like the photographs from Earth, and attach it to their shirts over their hearts. Some women would wear more than one. Then they would move into the central square of their small town and slowly, solemnly they would begin to dance. Their arms held unseen partners as they circled one another without music.

Shaboni emptied the glass of ale she'd been given with her meager dinner, grabbed her video camera and stepped outside to observe them. There were still men in the town: the very old, the very young, and the helpless. They would just as quietly disappear indoors when these women would come out of their homes and businesses to dance.

Shaboni had replaced the clothes she'd worn on her first mission to this world with the same simple blouse and long flowing skirt that many of the women here wore, but under an apron provided by the woman running the tavern, she concealed her firearm. As she leaned forward to confirm that she had the women centered in the frame of the footage she recorded, her long curly hair fell in front of her eyes. She pulled a long pin off the strap of the video camera and set it down long enough to wind her hair into a twist and pin it out of the way.

Her attention had been taken from the women only momentarily, but that had been all that was necessary. She was startled as she turned to retrieve the camera and heard the sound of hot plasma striking stone and mortar. Several of the women in the square screamed and most of them began to scatter in varying directions. Most of them.

A cadre of stony-faced women stood their ground, dancing with deliberate steps as a group of armor-clad Jaffa rounded a building close to where Shaboni was standing. She reached beneath her apron and wrapped a steady hand around her weapon, disengaging the safety, but did not draw down on the men. Several of the Jaffa fanned out into strategic positions as three of them, one clearly marked with the gold emblem of a First Prime in the middle of his forehead, strode confidently toward the remaining women. Shaboni stepped lightly and quietly to the side so that with her free hand she could direct the camera on the scene playing out in the courtyard of the square. Then she slowly moved forward, away from the camera.

The remaining women stopped their dance and stared defiantly as a man in battle dress unlike that of the Jaffa stepped away from the First Prime to address them. "Where is the Tau'ri woman you are hiding?" His impossibly deep voice echoed across the square and Shaboni felt her pulse skip a beat. They were looking for _her_!

"We do not know what you are talking about," one of the younger women stepped directly in his path and defied him with her tone, with her eyes, with every available means of communication. Raising her chin, she made it clear that she would not be bullied.

"I know who you are," his throaty distortion revealed the presence of a Goa'uld. "You are the slave Senna." He reached up and tore from her the picture she had pinned to her shirt. "And this," he shook the picture in her face, "was your beloved husband. I cannot recall his name, but I know yours because of how he wept it over and over…until I took his last breath." Haughty, evil pleasure gleamed in his eyes. One side of his mouth nipped upward in lopsided derision. He wadded up the picture and threw it down.

Senna took a couple of deep breaths trying to hold back the impulse to fight this monster toying with her. In the end the compulsion to revolt in any possible way consumed her. With a final inhalation of courage she spat in his face.

The First Prime and the Jaffa standing behind the Goa'uld lowered their staff weapons at her and readied them to fire. "Jaffa, kree shel 'noc." Their leader ordered them calmly to stand down. The mouth of the weapons whined then clicked closed. He coolly wiped away her venomous attack with a gloved hand. "I like you Senna of Dashou." He paused before continuing, "but I cannot allow such behavior to remain unpunished. I will give you a choice: you will tell me where the offworlder is and I will punish her for your actions, or," and he opened his Zat'nik'atel with a whining snap and pointed it at the woman standing directly to Senna's left, "I will punish this one, instead."

Senna immediately stepped to her left trying to place herself between this hated enemy and her friend, but the Jaffa standing behind the leader stepped forward and jerked her out of the way. He held her in his strong grasp as she struggled to protect the women who had so bravely stood with her when the Goa'uld entered their midst.

"NO!" She screamed.

"I will not ask again," his voice icy, his tone calm. There was no doubt he would do exactly as he threatened.

"You CANNOT!"

The Goa'uld's finger moved into position to fire and Shaboni's breath caught. The gun had warmed in her grasp and now she jerked it into position.

"STOP!" The command tore from her throat.

Before there was time for thinking, or breathing, or even blinking, the five Jaffa guards trained their staff weapons on her and readied them threateningly. The Goa'uld continued eying the woman he had been about to kill as if he were considering his next move. He lowered his Zat' slightly and turned his head to appraise the woman standing several meters away with a gun held confidently in her hands.

"Leave them alone. You are searching for me." Her voice sounded low and strong to her own ears, but she knew this was an impossible situation. She was completely surrounded and outgunned. The only thing that had saved her thus far was the fact that she had chosen to speak instead of fire. Now she had two choices: fire the weapon and kill this beast before her, forfeiting her own life in the process, or lower her weapon and be captured. The soldier in her knew that the second option provided many more opportunities for victory than the first, but the angry, outraged woman in her screamed at her to kill this bastard.

She had been in Dashou for only a few days, but had learned very quickly of the atrocities these women were facing. The men and older boys had all been taken as slaves to work the mines and serve the Jaffa in the palace. It had not always been that way. Lord Cronus had allowed the world to live in relative quiet for most of his multi-generational rule, but once Cronus had sent Chiron to Dashou everything had changed. The Jaffa had begun taking the men, and when anyone attempted to protest or fight back they too would disappear. On occasion the corpse of a woman or man who had been taken for this reason would turn up in the town square having been tortured and defiled; a warning to the others to remain subservient.

Shaboni weighed her options one last time, trying to silence the angry woman within her. She knew that it was very likely that if she fired her weapon she would kill this creature she now had dead in her sights, but it occurred to her that not only would she die instantly, it would likely be a death sentence to all of the women still standing in the courtyard…if they were lucky.

With a sigh of resignation she said, "I will go with you," and she lowered her gun. A thick-handed Jaffa was on her in a flash, relieving her of her weapon and twisting her arms behind her back. As he held her, a second Jaffa came to her side and ran his hands over her body to search for other weapons. Her stomach lurched sickeningly at the feeling of it.

The Goa'uld leader inclined his head, looking pleased. "Yes, yes you will." It appeared as if he was turning to leave the way he'd come. Shaboni felt her shoulders drop in relief that her sacrifice was for good; that by surrendering she could save the other women. Then, he turned on the women and fired twice at Senna, killing her instantly. The last thing Shaboni saw as he then turned towards her was the tortured faces of the women reaching for their comrade before she could fall, dead, to the ground. She felt the hands locking her arms behind her release her and before she could act there was a flash of blue light and an electric pain seized her, tearing her away from consciousness.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Colonel O'Neill quipped, "welcome to 868. Land of…" he looked around, squinting his eyes in the sun, and finished, "trees." Then without missing a beat he added, "and humidity. Whew!" He swiped at his suddenly sopping brow with the back of his sleeve. "Carter, see if the MALP has collected any more data about this world's weather. I don't remember anything in the brief about a trip to the Amazon."

"Sir, it was early in the morning when the MALP arrived. Perhaps the sun hadn't had a chance to provide the necessary daytime heating for…this." She wiped her hands together and then down the front of her BDU, making a distinctly unpleasant face. She went to the MALP situated about a meter from the DHD and accessed its systems.

"No welcoming party. That could be a good thing," Daniel commented as he dropped his pack to the ground, unfastened his vest, and slid out of his field coat. He rolled it into a compact ball and thrust it into his pack, then clambered back into his vest, lastly throwing his pack over his shoulder. By the time he'd finished halfway undressing and redressing, he had worked up enough sweat to seep through the back and armpits of his t-shirt.

Sam finished her examination of the MALP's telemetry of 868 and informed them, "Looks like we've got daytime temperatures and relative humidity readings similar to Equatorial South America, but nighttime readings indicate temps similar to more arid regions." She scanned through a few more pages of data and looked up at her team, all of them waiting patiently for her to elaborate. "Sir, the expected daily temperature shift here is more than fifty degrees." Her brow knit together in a concerned look. They had not taken the necessary time to allow the MALP to gather more than 24 hours of meteorological data and she feared they were not prepared for the extremes of the climate.

The colonel slid his sunglasses on and considered this new information. "We should make a preliminary search of the area. We'll see what's what in the area a few klicks around the 'Gate then we should probably phone home for some more supplies." The decision made, he tugged the brim of his cap down to shield the rest of his face from the bright mid-day sun and set off toward the tree line.

The remainder of SG-1 stepped in line and soon they'd reached the edge of the trees. The undergrowth was so thick it reminded Jack exactly of the rain forests of South America. He stopped, surveying the thick vines and ferns searching for a clear entrance.

Daniel, on the other hand, simply turned on his heels and began walking the length of the tree line that encircled the area around the gate.

"Daniel, where're ya' goin'?" Jack leaned on one foot and rested his hands on his MP5.

Daniel continued walking as he explained, "There aren't many worlds with a working Stargate that don't have well-worn paths leading to and from. If we," he stumbled over a root protruding from the ground, "ow…if we search the perimeter of this clearing I bet we find a path. And since I don't think any of us brought a machete…"

Amazed at his total agreement with Daniel's assessment, Jack fell in behind Daniel, barely managing to avoid the same root that had tripped the impulsive archeologist. In the four years he'd known the young man he'd come to understand that the man's brain whizzed on in fifth gear and that asking for an explanation necessitated downshifting, usually only frustrating Daniel.

But Daniel, too, had come to understand that since Jack shouldered the burden of command it was necessary to explain himself in order to win the colonel's buy-in. That understanding won them a comfortable balance that had since replaced the impetuousness that Daniel displayed on earlier missions. That impetuousness had nearly gotten them all killed more than once, so Daniel had learned that either he needed to explain himself to bring everyone else on board with his ideas, or he needed to explain himself so that more experienced heads could sometimes prevail. He'd grown accustomed to that balance; to trusting that even if they disagreed he could count on Jack hearing him out.

But, that balance had been shattered when Jack had gotten himself forcibly retired only three weeks earlier. Daniel could still feel the piercing remark, "_not much of a foundation…_"

"Here!" Daniel indicated he'd found a trail.

"Wait." Jack jogged a few steps to overtake him before he ran headlong into trouble.

The four of them trudged through the rain forest hearing the din of local fauna. Before long, the thick and heavy heat began to wear on them collectively. The sounds of heavy breathing and grunting in exertion added to the buzz of insects and footfalls. Jack saw a bend in the path that had a fallen tree next to it. He decided it looked like a perfect place for a break.

They sat down and Teal'c and Sam stripped to their t-shirts. Sam consulted her watch, which contained anemometer instruments for mobile readings. "91 degrees and 99% humidity," she commented. "Sir, I only have the water that's in my camel."

Teal'c spoke for the first time since they'd arrived on the planet nearly an hour earlier. "We must find a source of fresh water, or we must return to the Stargate."

Jack pulled a knife from its sheath at his side and unscrewed the hilt. He poured a series of tightly wrapped plastic packages from the handle of the knife into the fingerless gloves of his left hand. He picked through the crackling packages and found what he wanted: chlorine tablets for water purification. He put them inside the inner breast pocket of his field jacket and then replaced the remaining packages, recapped the knife handle, and replaced it at his belt. Then he reached back and plucked the straw of his camel out of its holder and sucked deeply from the water carrier. After several minutes and a few long, languid pulls from the straw, he stood.

"Okay, break over." He tucked the flexible spigot of his camel into its holder and headed demonstratively down the trail. The others were a little slower to their feet, but caught up to him quickly.

They continued in silence for another hour until Jack suddenly raised his fist in warning. The four of them halted and hunkered down behind trees lining the trail for cover. Presently, the rest of the team heard what Jack had heard: the plodding of running feet, _many_ running feet followed shortly by a chorus of children laughing. The four of them breathed a relieved sigh and stood back up.

As they stepped from behind their respective trees the group of children came bounding into view. They were running at a leisurely pace and tossing something that looked like a gray leather soccer ball back and forth. One of the boys missed his catch and the ball ricocheted off his hands, falling to the earth and rolling to a stop just short of Teal'c's feet. Before he could move the boy had chased the ball to its place, grabbed it, and when he saw boot-clad feet he froze. As he followed the boots upward they became the thick legs, then body, shoulders and head of the dark-skinned former First Prime of Apophis.

The boy stood and stumbled backwards, stammering, "Ja…Jaf…Jaffa!" The other children froze in place, staring wide-eyed in obvious fear at the group of travelers. The echoes of their laughter still danced among the trees, so quickly had their demeanor changed.

"Hey, kids!" Jack smiled at them as warmly as he could. "Listen," he started, "don't mind this big guy." He patted Teal'c on the shoulder. "He's not going to hurt you." Jack scrunched down on his haunches to become conspicuously 'less-tall'.

"Indeed, I am not." Teal'c allowed his staff weapon to lean from him at a slight angle, away from the children.

Without changing expression or looking away, Jack murmured, "Daniel, do the candy bar thing."

Daniel jumped like something had bit him, causing some of the more skittish children to jump right along with him. He started rummaging through one of his deep vest pockets and came up with a heat-decimated nutrition bar covered with chocolate. He pulled some of the wrapping off it, took a bite, getting it on his cheek, and then held out the remainder to the boy standing at the front of the group. Several of the others had slowly inched themselves behind what appeared to be the oldest child, thrusting him forward between them and SG-1.

"It's candy. You know, sweets." He offered it to the boy again. The boy reached up and took the uncovered end of the bar, smearing the gooey chocolate all over his fingers. He smelled the confection then tasted it. His eyes lit up and he quickly devoured the entire thing, wiping sticky, sugary chocolate all over his face.

Jack had seen Daniel disarm the frightened people of Abydos with a candy bar and his warm smile. He'd since seen Daniel do his theme and variations of "Hello, we're peaceful travelers from Earth," speech more times than he could count. But, it never ceased to amaze him how the young man could bravely enter the most volatile of first contact situations and turn most people into instant friends. It also never ceased to amaze Jack that the few times that speech hadn't worked - and Daniel or someone else had paid dearly for the dark intentions of those individuals – those experiences hadn't dampened Daniel's enthusiasm for encountering new people, new cultures, or new experiences. His spirit had proven indomitable, if his innocence had not.

Suddenly a very young girl broke off from the group and approached Teal'c. She couldn't have been more than five years old. "You are a Jaffa, but you are wearing clothes like the Tau'ri warriors."

Jack and Sam exchanged knowing glances. They knew that SG-5 had visited this world, but the report had stated that they'd only had very limited contact with the people of Dashou. This little girl must have encountered them during their short stay. The women, who seemed to be in some position of power, had hurried the four men back to the Stargate and insisted emphatically that they not return.

Teal'c squatted down, but was still head and shoulders over the brave child. "I am indeed Jaffa, but I am a _free_ Jaffa. I fight alongside the Tau'ri by choice. These people are my friends and together we battle against the Goa'uld." He spoke gently, but the fire of truth burned brightly in his eyes.

The little girl stared up into his eyes, searching them. She turned, seemingly satisfied with his explanation, and said to the others, "We should take them to Ma'ma."

The oldest boy, who looked to Jack to be about eight, gave her a threatening look, "Shush, Sheylan!" He held out his hand in instruction for her to join him. She reached for the hand, but then thought better of it.

"You are all dirty." The boy looked at his hand then tried to wipe the chocolate on his trousers.

"Listen, kids," Jack started, "we are looking for someone. Maybe you can help us." Jack reached into his vest pocket and pulled out a photograph of Shaboni. "Have any of you guys ever seen this woman?" He flipped the picture around and several of the children answered his question when their eyes widened in obvious recognition. Jack's mind made tactical note of their expressions: _'That's an affirmative.'_

"Okay, so you've seen her before." He put the picture back in his pocket. "Does your Ma'ma know her?" he asked the little girl.

Before her brother could attempt to quiet her she offered, "She was staying where we live." This time her brother didn't hold out his hand. He simply walked forward and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back to the group. He gave her a little shake that said if she didn't be quiet she was going to be in trouble.

"Sheylan, is it?" Daniel decided he would try his luck. "And I assume this is your big brother?" He smiled warmly at the suspicious boy. "I'm Daniel. This is Colonel O'Neill."

"Jack," he interrupted.

"Jack," Daniel corrected. "This is Major Carter, and this," he indicated to their tall warrior friend, "is Teal'c. We are trying to find the woman in the picture. She is," he paused looking for just the right description, "a friend of ours." Inwardly he winced at the word.

They waited while the older boy considered his options. He looked down at his little sister, looked to Teal'c, then again at Daniel. He licked at the chocolate on his lips as if remembering that this stranger had given him something very special and finally decided, "I am Jorun."

"It is nice to meet you, Jorun," Daniel held out his hand in greeting. The boy scrunched up his brow in confusion for a moment, then tentatively reached for the hand. Daniel grasped it, shook it up and down genially, and then let go. The boy's eyes lit up and he grinned from ear-to-ear, clearly enjoying the handshake.

"Jorun," Jack interrupted the 'getting-to-know-you' part of the mission, "would it be okay if we talked to your Ma'ma?"

Still smiling, the boy nodded and turned on his heels to lead them towards his home. As they walked several of the children fell in line to either side of Teal'c. They stole repeated glances as they marched beside him, their eyes round saucers of amazement at the day's exciting turn of events, their young legs fairly running to keep up.

Sheylan decided she'd taken a shining to Jack. She sidled up beside him and thrust her tiny hand into his. The sensation of it shocked the colonel so severely he nearly jerked his hand away, but shock was quickly replaced with a strange sweetness at the feel of a small child's hand in his own. It threatened him, the sweetness. It tore at the deepest hidden places: the locked boxes behind thick walls where he kept feelings buried. Boxes like the one labeled _'Charlie'_. He swallowed against the rush of thoughts that clamored for the surface, feeling the little girl swing his arm back and forth as she walked. For a brief moment he thought he might lose the battle against keeping those boxes locked tight. Then they rounded the last turn and came out of the trees. They were suddenly in an area populated with small houses. Just beyond he could see commercial buildings. The boxes slammed closed and the locks did their job.

All the children but Sheylan and Jorun sprinted ahead shouting to other kids and anyone who was listening that they had visitors. Sheylan kept her hand firmly planted in Jack's. He looked down at the little girl. Her dirty-blond hair was stuck to her face and neck from the sweat of running around in the heat of the day. He peeked at Carter and saw that hers was doing exactly the same thing. It made him smile. She shot him a confused look and he quickly turned away. The idea of Carter at five…

"O'Neill, someone approaches." Teal'c retrieved him from his thoughts.

There, ahead on the path, was a blond-headed woman in a short-sleeved dress. The long cottony material blew against her legs as she strode purposefully toward the group of strangers approaching with two children in tow. As soon as she was close enough she demanded, "Let go of my child."

Jack instantly dropped the tiny hand that had been holding his so tightly. In the clearing, the air moved against him and he could feel it cooling the sweat that had formed between their bond.

"Ma'ma, its okay. They are Tau'ri!" Jorun ran to her side, smiling.

"Jorun, take your sister to the kitchen and run water for you both. Clean yourself up. It looks as if you have been eating mud." The boy's face fell and he grabbed Sheylan's hand, urging her toward the center of town.

Sheylan looked back over her shoulder as she was marched away and called, "Goodbye, Colonel O'Neill Jack!"

"So," she put her hands on her hips, "you are Tau'ri?" She eyed Teal'c with suspicious disdain.

The four of them stood in the afternoon sun dripping sweat and trying to be gracious. Daniel stepped forward to start his usual speech, but Jack put the side of his hand to Daniel's chest, stopping him.

"We are."

She considered his response for a moment and then replied to the colonel, "We told you to stay away," clearly deciding to let the Teal'c matter wait for the moment.

"You did."

"And yet, here you are. Again." Her dark brown eyes flashed in anger. Jack couldn't tell exactly what she was angry at, though. His gut told him that it wasn't just because they were _there._ There had to be more to this.

"Yes. Here we are." He continued the minimalist approach. "Again."

Exasperated by his tactic, the woman groaned and quickly turned to head back to the town center. When the members of SG-1 merely exchanged confused glances she called over her shoulder, "Come along. You should get out of the sun and have something to drink."

They followed her to the building where she'd sent the children. It appeared to be some kind of local bar or restaurant. They stepped into the dimly lit interior and were greeted immediately by a blast of artificially cooled air.

"Do you have a name besides Ma'ma?" Jack sat then leaned his elbows against the bar as she went around behind it.

"I am Cassic. This is my tavern. I can offer you something to drink." She began setting glasses on the bar without waiting for an answer.

Daniel piped up as he plopped himself into a stool next to Jack, "We have nothing to trade."

"There is no need for that. I would like for you to tell me why you are here. That is a good trade. Food and drink for information." She began to fill the glasses with ale, placing one in front of the two men and beckoning the other two members of their team to come and sit. Jack and Teal'c quickly gulped down the drink.

Just then Jorun burst through the door behind the bar. "Sheylan is eating. Can I stay while you talk to the Tau'ri? I already know why they are here." He gave his mother a knowing smirk. Cassic gave this some consideration.

"You may stay. But, you must not interrupt." He grinned triumphantly and pulled himself onto the bar.

"So, since you have already informed the children why you are here it must not be secret. The rest of Dashou will know by now, so tell me." She refilled Jack and Teal'c's already-empty glasses.

Jack made a mental note that he'd better slow down on the ale. It went down with a punch that was a good bit stronger than beer. He stole a quick glance at Daniel's glass to see how far into drunk-land the good doctor had wandered. He'd finished his glass, and Cassic poured him a second.

Jack caught Daniel's eye and held up his index finger, mouthing the words, "Last one." Daniel pressed his lips together in irritated acquiescence.

Jack reached into his vest pocket and pulled out the picture of Shaboni. He flipped it over so Cassic could take a look at it. She looked at the picture for a long moment and then locked eyes with the colonel. It was all the confirmation he needed that they had the right place. The children had seemed to know her, and this woman _definitely_ knew her. He got the distinct impression that something serious had gone down.

"Tell me what happened," was all he said.

"She was captured by Jaffa. Cronus's Guard of Ages came here while she was with us. Chiron knew of her presence on Dashou. She gave herself to him to protect Senna and Annan, though he killed Senna anyway." At the mention of the names of the women Jorun's face dropped. He looked at the floor as if it held something of great importance for him. Cassic's face was a carefully controlled mask, her dark, flashing eyes still locked on the colonel's.

"Okay." Jack let the information sink in beneath the warm buzz forming in his thoughts. He turned to Teal'c, "This Guard of Ages…what is_ that_?"

"They were the personal guard to Cronus; led by Chiron, a minor Goa'uld," Teal'c replied.

Cassic's steely demeanor changed abruptly at Teal'c's words. Apparently _this_ was the time for dealing with the Teal'c matter. "_You_ are _Jaffa_!" She spat the words. "What are you doing with these foolish travelers?!" She waved a hand indicating the rest of the team.

Daniel looked up from his glass, "Foolish?"

"Easy, Daniel," Jack intoned.

Jorun's head sprung up when his mother's anger flared at the Jaffa, "Ma'ma, he is a _free _Jaffa! He fights with the Tau'ri _against_ the Goa'uld." He reached up and put a hand on his mother's shoulder.

She turned to him, "There is no such thing as a free Jaffa."

"You're wrong," Daniel just couldn't stop himself. The drink had loosened his tongue. Jack started to interrupt him again, but Daniel plowed onward, slightly slurring his words as he went. "Teal'c was First Prime of Apophis, but he learned that the Goa'uld are not gods. He turned his back on his entire way of life to fight against the tyranny of the false gods. He _hates_ the Goa'uld. And better than that, he _really hates_ Cronus."

Sam literally had to stop herself from laughing out loud at Daniel's words. Teal'c inclined his head as he considered Daniel's summation. "I have never heard you put it such succinct terms, Daniel Jackson."

Jack grinned at his friends. Oh yeah, the booze had definitely hit hard. They'd come in slightly dehydrated and hadn't eaten a bite, then started cooling the parched tonsils with alien hooch. It struck them all at the same time, and suddenly, Daniel and Sam burst into laughter. Jack was grinning wildly and Teal'c was actually smiling in an obvious manner.

Cassic watched the four strangers giggling like the old men did after several glasses of her ale. The anger that had burned in her a moment before was squelched by the obvious affection these Tau'ri had for the Jaffa. She wondered at the words, _'a free Jaffa'_. Could it be true? He certainly didn't behave like any Jaffa she'd ever met.

"I am sorry about your friend. She has been gone from here for some time. It would not be safe for you to stay here searching for her. I will prepare food for you. If you wish to stay tonight you may sleep here. Tomorrow you must return to your home. It can be very cold at night. It would be better if you did not try to travel to the Chappa'ai until morning." Cassic retrieved the glasses that were empty and disappeared behind the door to the kitchen.

Jorun grinned at Jack, "Is that a weapon?" He pointed at the colonel's MP5.

The grin on Jack's face disappeared in a flash. He said with a deadly serious command in his voice, "Yes, and it is _very_ dangerous. You must _never_ touch it, do you understand?"

Jorun's eyes widened at the edgy tone of voice, "I…I understand." He jumped down and disappeared behind the door.

"I think you scared him, Jack," Daniel slurred.

"I hope so." Jack gulped down the last of his ale.


	4. Chapter 4

Vague images and sensations filled Shaboni's unconscious mind; disjointed and out of reach. The face of her husband, his arms around her waist. The feel of a loaded gun in her hand. The smell of her MTAR21 and the hazy smoke that filled the air after it was fired. The smell of oil as she cleaned it. The scent of vanilla when she would turn her face into her pillow, into her hair, and weep at the loss of it all. The loss of Emil. The loss of her friend, Tolah, who had died trying to help her find him. Then the loss of her health as poisons slowly carved their way through her mind and body. In the midst of all that loss a new face: Jack. The warmth of sincere brown eyes. The ruffled graying hair. The smell of beer. Strange and wonderful music. His hand in her hair. His hand in her hand. Then the face of Colonel Harry Mayborne. The words: her husband…alive…he'd lied.

_Jack lied_.

Consciousness came as quickly as an inhaled breath. The thoughts and images of her dream already forgotten, her eyes tried to focus in the dark room. Her instincts sharpened to a laser's point.

Stone. She could sense stone beneath her. The heat was suffocating. She briefly wondered if she were laying on some kind of oven. She drew a deep, steadying breath, but in the heavy wet air she felt like she'd not breathed at all. Calming herself, she allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness around her. She went to push her hair out of her face, only to find her hands bound above her head, arms stretched tightly against her ears. She tested her restraints and found both feet and hands held fast with no room for maneuvering. She tugged at the shackles to test for any chance she could pull her hands free and felt a familiar pain in her right thumb as the metal around her wrist bit into an old injury.

There was a sliver of light bleeding through a slender cut high in the wall. The angle of the shadow told her it was early in the day. She had been taken at early nightfall. The pain in her shoulders told of several hours in the uncomfortable position she was in now. She tried to turn her body sideways to relieve some of the pressure of lying on hot stone. It pulled her shoulder so tight she feared she would wrench it out of socket, and she returned to her back, frustrated. Her shoes were gone, but at least they'd left her clothes on. She took a few more breaths to steady herself and settled in to tolerate the waiting.

Hours passed in agonizing spirals of thought and memory. She had tried to sleep, but the discomfort of her position and the ever-increasing thirst that plagued her refused her attempts. Her tongue became thick in her mouth, pushing at her dry, cracked lips, searching for moisture.

She'd been this thirsty once before. As part of her training for the IDF Sayeret they were sent into the desert with limited provisions and required to find their way back to safety. When her small team had accidentally run across undetonated ordinance in the rocky sand, she had suggested they call for assistance. The signal operator refused and sent their cocky ordinance specialist to disarm the missile. She and another woman, Rebecca, had argued with the specialist to no avail. He had attempted to render the missile safe. When he determined he'd been successful, he pulled it out of the ground completely and turned to show them his triumph. The missile exploded, sending shrapnel and parts of the specialist raining fire, metal, bone, flesh, and blood on the team. Their water provisions had been pierced by shrapnel and leaked into the sucking sand. The radio the signal operator had been carrying was destroyed, taking the signal operator with it. Only she and Rebecca had survived. They'd trudged through the desert for over a day before coming to the edge of civilization. She remembered clearly that the only thought that kept her going when the thirst became maddening was that if she continued to put one foot in front of the other she would reach help. And water.

This time there was no force of will, no action to be taken. She had no choice but to lay locked to this stone bed and wait and_ hope_ that someone would come bearing water. Her mind flashed again to the rescue that had come only hours after she'd been taken from Jack's house.

'_I knew you to be coming.'_

The desperation she'd felt tinged her face with a burning flush of embarrassment. In the darkness of her holding cell there was no one to see it, but she berated herself for trusting _'desiring'_ the man she now knew had ultimately betrayed her. He would never have had the chance if she hadn't been so ill and running out of time. She would never have been that stupid, that gullible.

_Jack lied when he told you that Emil was dead._

Colonel Mayborne's words leapt again to her thoughts. The anger that flared in her gave her strength. Made her want to fight. Made her want to take revenge. She decided that if she survived this prison she would someday find Colonel Jack O'Neill and show him the error of his ways. She was not some doe-eyed woman to be seduced by an easy smile and strong arms. She was a soldier. And she would survive.

A jangle of keys on metal jarred her from her thoughts. Someone was entering her cell. She tried to still the sudden thumping of her racing heart and listen for clues that could be useful. Iron. Not steel. The keys sounded on the iron door and, when the door swung open, the hinges creaked and groaned as if corroded. Shuffling feet. Not Jaffa. Human hands, cool, gentle, lain across her chest. Testing for life. She took a deep deliberate breath.

"Ah, yes, that is good. Alive." The voice was soft, but masculine.

"Tell me who you are," she questioned.

"I am Nathan," she could see in the dim light that he smiled shyly at her. She couldn't quite see his features, but she still had the notion that he was familiar.

"Nathan, you will help me to get out of this place."

"I cannot. I am sorry." He reached to the floor beside her and brought a cloth to her mouth. It dripped lukewarm water on her lips. Hungry for it, she could not help herself, lifting her head to take the cloth in her mouth and suck in its offering of continued existence. After several panicky sucks he withdrew the cloth.

"NO!" She yelled at him, "I need more!"

"Shush, now. I will give you more." He put a cool, tender hand over her lips. For a brief moment she was tempted to bite him, but the promise of more water held her back. Nathan reached down to the floor again and brought the dripping cloth back to her mouth. The sweetness of the sensation of water filling her mouth made her want to cry. She swallowed repeatedly, forcing the water and the lump in her throat down. She simply could not afford the expenditure of tears.

After several cloths-full of water Nathan retrieved the vessel at his feet and shuffled towards the door. He stopped briefly and turned towards her, "Chiron will come. It is best to give him whatever he asks." With that as a warning, he turned and strode from the cell, pushing the great creaking door closed and locking it behind him.

For a few moments his words stomped around in her mind like a thoughtless giant, blocking out all light and hope. She would suffer for her carelessness; for getting captured. Then all thought was thoroughly banished as cramps seized her. Her stomach threatened to return the precious gift of water it had been given. She desperately wanted to turn to her side and curl into a ball as they gripped her. She felt her entire body suddenly slick with intense sweat. She inhaled deeply and fought the pain and nausea, struggling with all her remaining strength to keep it down. Eventually the pains in her stomach subsided and she came to the end of herself as a fitful, blessed sleep overtook her.

* * *

The four of them had eaten the meal Cassic prepared for them with greedy haste. Trekking through a rain forest had made them far more than thirsty. Jorun and Sheylan had helped their mother with the dishes and then run back outside to find their friends and tell them all the interesting developments since SG-1 had arrived in Dashou.

A few curious townsfolk wandered into the tavern in the late afternoon for drinks. Cassic went about her job and left the four travelers to their own devices. They were starting to feel the effects of the drink wear off as the last light of day glinted through the window. The overhead lights in the tavern came on, as did lights on long poles in the square across from them. Suddenly, everyone in the tavern stopped eating and drinking and left. Sam looked out the window and noticed the men heading for the houses that fringed the town center. But instead of going with them, the women seemed to be doing just the opposite. They were emerging from every building and congregating in a courtyard at the exact center of the square.

"Sir, you should take a look at this." Sam's voice brought the entire team to peer out the window.

Pictures appeared from pockets, and the women pinned them on themselves and each other. They were more like paper copies of pictures than the plastic of Earth photographs, and some were clearly quite faded and tattered. Then, one by one, the women began dancing. They were dancing with invisible partners. Sam shivered. It felt like she was watching them dance with ghosts. She suddenly wanted very much to be out of the air-conditioned tavern and in the warmth of the streets. She moved from the window and made her way outside to the railing opposite the walkway in front of the line of commerce buildings.

She leaned on the wooden rail and felt its satiny weathered smoothness under her hands. The display being carried out in the square was disturbing…and also somehow beautiful.

"I've seen this before." Colonel O'Neill's voice was low and husky beside her. She hadn't heard him come outside.

"Sir?"

"In Chile. 1983." He turned around and sat sideways on the railing, leaning on one foot, dangling the other. Sam stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate. "Pinochet. He was a dictator that the CIA had helped bring to power in the seventies. They thought they were replacing a communist government, but they simply replaced it with a totalitarian dictator." Jack stood back up and turned to face the women in the courtyard. "Pinochet shut down the media. No information that he didn't control. And there were protests. I got sent in with a unit of SFs to rescue this American journalist who snuck in and got himself trapped there. One of my first missions as an SF."

"What did you mean you'd seen his before?" Just as she spoke the words the door opened and Daniel and Teal'c joined them outside. Sam was afraid that he would stop and withdraw back into the silence of nondisclosure. It had been his way for most of his life by necessity. She knew it was one of the reasons he filled so much of the quiet with jokes. There was just so little he could actually talk about.

But he didn't stop. He turned and met eyes with Daniel and then Teal'c. "I was just telling Carter here that I've seen this before." He raised a hand to indicate the dancing women. "In Chile in 1983. Pinochet's goons would come and take the men away. Torture them, imprison them…kill them. If the women complained they would disappear too. So they began to protest by dancing. They would do exactly what these women are doing: pin a photo to their clothes and dance," he paused then added, "except they had music."

They all watched the women silently dancing their sorrow and loss and grieving in circles around each other. Their deliberate steps wove a mesmerizing tapestry telling the story of their sadness. Teal'c's voice was barely above a whisper when he commented, "The absence of music makes this display most haunting, O'Neill."

Jack took a breath to say something, mouth open, then he shut it. Then he opened it again and finally said, "What's haunting is they don't think they can do anything about it." And he walked inside, slamming the door behind him.

Daniel stood there for a moment watching the protest…their passion play. He then quietly slipped away from Sam and Teal'c and went inside. He found Jack seated at the bar sipping a fresh drink. Cassic was cleaning something, but eying Jack with an interesting look. Daniel suddenly wondered where Cassic's husband was. Why wasn't she outside dancing with the missing?

"You okay?" Daniel sat down and indicated to Cassic that he wished for one of the drinks she served. He couldn't deny the compulsion to reach out to this man he'd considered his dearest friend, but instinctively he held something back, not wanting to risk the emotional shove that he knew Jack could give him.

"We have a mission." Jack pulled at his drink. Cassic sat a fresh one in front of Daniel.

"Yeah, we do."

"We're here to find Shaboni and bring her home."

"I know." Daniel could tell that Jack was struggling with the same thing Sam had wondered back on Earth. Could they not help these people?

"We don't even know if she's still on the planet."

Daniel nursed his own drink and waited. Jack was obviously going to have this conversation with or without him, so he figured it would be safest if it were 'without'.

"Ah, hell." Jack downed the rest of his drink and grabbed Daniel's, which he swallowed up in three big gulps.

"Hey!"

"You should stay away from that stuff, Daniel. It'll get you drunk." Jack got up from the stool and strode to the door. "Carter, Teal'c, inside."

As Sam started to turn to make her way back into the bar a gleam of metal caught her eye. She stooped to investigate it and discovered a video camera lying on its side. It had clearly been in the elements for a few weeks and was encrusted with grime. She picked it up and tested the buttons, but there was no power.

"Carter!" The colonel yelled for her from inside the bar. She took the camera with her and went to where the other three were sitting. Noticing the filthy new toy that had distracted his second he asked, "What'cha got?"

"Sir, it's a video camera." She continued scraping dirt from the control panel and trying to find a way to make it function.

"And?" The colonel asked clearly needing a little more information.

She stopped and looked at him, then added, "From Earth."

The implication of her revelation hit him. The camera's presence struck a hopeful note in his restless mind. His gut told him it was Shaboni's, and he didn't want to argue with it.

Daniel hopped up and went over to where their packs lay in a heap. He found his, opened it, and dug around until he found his own video camera. He carried it to Sam and offered it wordlessly. She took it, never looking up from the new puzzle that had her attention. "Thank you," she muttered automatically. Her hands turned the filthy camera over and over, searching for something that would bring her eureka moment. She found the ejection switch for the digital tape compartment and pushed it, but the compartment didn't budge. She tried to pry it open with her fingers, but it stubbornly refused to let go. "I need something to pry this off with."

Cassic was standing there watching her and without hesitation she handed Sam a knife. Surprised by the source of the aid, Sam looked up and locked eyes with the young woman. Cassic nodded at her, approvingly. She'd seen Shaboni using the video camera a few times during her short stay in Dashou. Sam went back to trying to get the camera working.

The rest of them sat and waited while she fiddled. Cassic gave Daniel a fresh glass of ale, refilled the colonel's and offered some to Teal'c, who politely refused. They sat there quietly as the clicks and rattles of Sam's tinkering filled the room. At one point, the door to the tavern opened and Cassic informed them that she was closing up for the night. As the patrons went their way, Jorun and Sheylan noisily exploded through the door in the way that children so often tend to do.

"Colonel O'Neill Jack!" Sheylan continued to say his name in the out-of-order way he'd been first introduced to them. She bound up to him and stood on her tiptoes trying to see over the bar. After two (_and a half_) drinks, Jack's head was feeling nice and warm once again. Without a thought he reached and scooped up the little girl, setting her on his knee so she could see what Sam was doing. He could smell the dirt and sweat of outdoor play emanating from her. Once again, without warning he felt something dangerous shake loose in his memory. He quickly polished off his third glass of ale, swallowing hard against the unbidden stone rising in his stomach.

Cassic observed the easy transition this O'Neill made from warrior to parent. She'd noticed how he walked with her daughter as they approached Dashou. Then he'd plopped Sheylan in his lap with the easy movement of a man who had done such a thing a thousand times. This time she thought she saw the same kind of shadow pass over his face that she'd seen so many times on the faces of the mothers whose sons were taken. It had only been there for a moment, but she felt certain she'd seen it. Acting on a mother's instinct she said, "Sheylan, it is almost time for sleeping. Please go and ask Jorun to help you clean yourself." She pointed at the staircase in the corner of the room.

"Yes, Ma'ma." Jack eased her to the floor and winked at her before she sped up after her brother.

"Cassic," Daniel began, "if I may…I mean, if you don't mind me asking…" Jack knew what Daniel was going to ask and considered stopping him, but then realized that he also wanted to know. "Where is…what happened…"

Jack cut off the stammering archeologist, "Where is their father?"

Cassic pressed her lips together, thoughtfully. She absentmindedly reached up and started twirling a strand of blond hair through her fingers, then finally, avoiding their eyes, admitted, "He is in the palace."

Daniel started to get that questioning look he almost always had because he was always questioning something. Jack felt sure he was going to push this woman too far too fast, but again didn't stop him. He looked down at his glass and thought perhaps it was all the drinking.

"Was he taken by the Jaffa like the other men?" Daniel's tone suggested he was trying to be tactful but couldn't figure out a way to ask his questions without actually _asking_ them.

Cassic stopped moving. She didn't answer this time. She merely stared at Daniel. But Daniel, head thick with drink and mind swirling with questions, didn't get the hint that he should stop. "I mean, you didn't go outside with the other women. What…"

"Daniel," Jack's insistent tone drew the younger man's head around.

"What?" He was SO not getting a clue.

"Let it go." Cassic's eyes met Jack's and he thought he saw relief there.

"Got it!" Carter declared triumphantly. They all turned to look at her. "I got the tape out. I can play it in Daniel's camera," she offered.

Cassic realized she was holding her breath. She exhaled, steadying herself. For a brief moment she had felt the words she dare not say rising to her lips. She had almost betrayed herself…almost.

SG-1 were now drawn to the tiny screen of the video camera sitting on the bar. It only took a moment of hearing the audio of the footage for Cassic to realize what had been recorded on the camera. She had witnessed it from the window of her bar and had no wish to see or hear it replayed, but she remained.

Jack adjusted the tiny screen jutting at a right angle from the camera so that all four of them could see the images there. The footage began with the women dancing, just as they had been a short while ago. Then the image jerked as the camera was set down and they heard the sound of a staff weapon being fired. Women shrieked and ran from the courtyard. For a moment the image framed in the camera's lens revealed nothing, but then the gauzy fabric of a cottony skirt stepped in front of the frame and the angle was repositioned.

The five of them watched and listened, their collective horror growing, as the events of four weeks earlier unfolded before them. When the Goa'uld and his First Prime stepped forward Teal'c commented to no one in particular, "Chiron." Suddenly the gauzy white skirt moved far enough forward in the frame that it became the upper half of a woman in a white skirt and apron and gray blouse with her hair pinned up; gentle brown curls escaping around her ears. Jack's mouth went dry as he recognized the back of the woman they were trying to find. In the slightly crooked angle of the camera he could see the outline of her fist around a sidearm underneath the short apron encircling her. They could hear the quiet conversation of Chiron and the women in the circle. Senna cried out and in a flash the hand under the apron withdrew the weapon.

"STOP!"

The sound of Shaboni's voice, strong, forceful and still laced with the unmistakable accented clipping of consonants, caused Jack's throat to constrict. He searched the image of her back and all around her for any clues, anything that might tell him what to do to find her. They heard her agree to go with Chiron, and she was suddenly restrained by Jaffa. Jack felt fury tighten its fist as one of them ran probing, lecherous hands over her body under the guise of searching her. Impossibly, the fury ratcheted up one notch higher when Chiron murdered the woman Senna and then turned his Zat' on Shaboni. The Jaffa released her and electric blue light coursed around her body. She spasmed once and fell out of the frame to the ground. As the Jaffa collected their prize the camera continued to play the anguished cries of the women gathering their fallen friend into their arms. Two of the women carried Senna away from the rest into one of the buildings on the other side of the square, leaving the others in horrified silence.

Daniel reached down and paused the video. The image frozen on the screen etched itself into his memory. Not wanting to see the grief and anguish etched on their faces, he reached back down and slapped the viewfinder closed.

"Sir, we have to help them." Carter's voice was plaintive, but utterly convincing.

"I know." The colonel pushed himself away from the bar and made eye contact with Cassic. "Will you help us?"

"Is that not what I have been doing?" She leaned her head to the side suggesting that he needn't have asked.

"Right." Checking his watch, the colonel came to a series of conclusions. "We need some sleep. Cassic, is there anyone who can take the children for a night?"

"There is more than enough room for all of us here." She didn't understand.

"You're not following me," he shook his head.

"You are not going anywhere." Her brow furrowed in confusion.

"We need to scope out this palace, and we need you to take us to it before the sun comes up." He reasoned that if the palace was where the men were taken, it was the most logical place to start their search for Shaboni.

She stopped moving again. This time she didn't meet his eyes. She didn't search the faces of these strange travelers called Tau'ri. She didn't know if she could do as he asked and turned away from them so that they would not see the fear in her eyes.

"Cassic," Daniel gently pushed her forward with his voice, "We can help you. We can help the people of Dashou. But we can't do it if you aren't willing to help yourselves. And our friend…"

"Shaboni," she supplied for him.

"Yes, Shaboni. If she is still alive we have to find her." Daniel stood up so that he could reach for Cassic's arm. He laid a comforting, gentle hand there offering strength and support.

At the feel of his touch on her skin she lifted her head. Without turning to face them she spoke, "I cannot promise that the others will join you, but the death of Senna has deeply affected Annan. I will ask her to watch the children tonight. I will tell her why and I believe she will keep them for me." With those words she ducked her head and walked quickly out of the tavern, leaving the four of them sharing uneasy glances.


	5. Chapter 5

When Shaboni awoke again the sliver of light that had been there before was gone. There was no moonlight on this planet. The darkness of night was complete. Without any source of light at all you could not see your hand in front of your face. That was how she felt now. No light. Not in the room around her, not in her heart. And the cold…

She knew that the nights here were a stark contrast to the daytime, but she had not had to sleep exposed like this. Cassic had given her lodging in the tavern, and in Dashou there were creature comforts like electricity, running water, and especially air conditioning and heaters. The tavern had looked old-fashioned, but she had found that the appliances used to prepare the meals and everything underlying the surface was strikingly similar to the developed nations of Earth.

Shaboni shivered convulsively against the cold night air. She wondered if it was really as cold as she thought or if the physical strain of her imprisonment was making it so that even minor extremes were intolerable. The intensity of thirst, hunger, heat, then cold along with more hours than she could count locked in the unbearable position she was in worked on her as much mentally as it did physically. Intimately familiar with interrogation tactics and routine applications of torture, she knew that it was only a matter of time until the physical stresses of her situation would cloud her mind and make her vulnerable.

The sound of keys in the lock of her iron prison pulled her from her missive. She hoped that it was Nathan returning with water and perhaps some food. She had long since used up any reserves of energy she'd had when she was brought to this cell.

"You have returned." Her statement was more a question, but she did not ask.

The soft voice of young Nathan calmed her, "Yes. I bring you some water." She could hear the shuffling of his feet and the quiet slosh of water in a bucket. "Chiron will be coming for you soon," he whispered secretively as he held the soaked cloth to her lips again. She sucked at the dripping cloth, letting the water minister to her. After only a few mouthfuls Nathan withdrew the cloth and dropped it into the bucket.

"He is planning to interrogate me," her voice a declaration, but her words a question.

"That is what I believe, however I do not know for certain what he intends." Nathan bent to pick up the bucket. As he stood he reminded her, "Please give him what he asks. He may spare your life if you do." And he turned and shuffled out of her cage.

* * *

Cassic returned shortly and gathered the children to go with her back to Annan's. When she returned the second time she said, "Jorun and Sheylan will stay with Annan for as long as necessary." Then she showed the four of them up the stairs indicating that Jack and Daniel could sleep in one room, Sam in another, and she offered Teal'c her son's room. Teal'c bowed slightly in appreciation.

"Teal'c, five hours," Jack explained. "Then we head out." Teal'c nodded his understanding and disappeared into the darkness of the child's room.

The rest of the team tossed their packs on the floor next to their beds, slipped out of shoes and vests, tucked various weaponry into accessible positions, and lay their heads down.

Daniel sank into the soft bed; grateful he wasn't sleeping in the cold air outside. Cassic had managed to warm the place up quickly after darkness fell. The temperature had dropped so quickly the windows had fogged with condensation then frosted. He turned on his side, putting his back to the man settling in across the room, and closed his eyes to go to sleep.

Sleep would not come.

He shifted around fitfully, but his mind simply would not slow down. After a few frustrated sighs he was startled when Jack said, "Can't sleep, either?"

The silence of his reply stretched out tightly between them.

"Daniel?" Clearly Jack wasn't willing to take his silence for an answer.

"No, I can't sleep." The snarly tone that crept into his voice surprised even him. He knew that Jack had heard that hint of anger in his voice. He took a couple of breaths waiting for…

"Okay, out with it."

And there it was.

"What?"

"Daniel, I don't have the time nor the energy to dance this dance tonight. I need to know what's going on." Jack didn't sound defensive, just tired. And worried.

Daniel winced inwardly at the thought that Jack was worried about him. A part of him wanted to believe that things were as they had been, but the pain of the verbal shove he'd received at Jack's house a couple of weeks earlier was still too fresh. The opposing feelings threatened to pull him in two. He took a breath to speak, let it back out again, and took another one realizing he had no idea what to say.

"Okay if you won't tell me I'm gonna guess." Jack pushed himself up on an elbow trying to see Daniel laying on the other bed in the darkness. "…what I said at my house that day…it has something to do with that."

Daniel squeezed his eyes closed; frustrated that he was so transparent. But, he argued with himself, he _wasn't_ transparent. Not to most people. Just to this one person.

"Yeah. I guess it does."

"So, we're not so okay."

"Look, I know you were doing what you had to do. I understand your place was bugged. I _get it_." Daniel rolled on his back and spoke into the inky black.

"I know you understand. But I don't think that what you know in your head and what, you know…well, I guess, what you feel…I don't think they agree." It was a bull's-eye. Jack had hit the nail so squarely on the head it sank all the way in. Conflicted silence once again filled the room.

Finally, Daniel quietly admitted, "It was a really lousy thing to hear."

Jack flopped back down on his back and surprised them both when he agreed, "That's because it was a really lousy thing to say."

Daniel's head went totally quiet as he realized Jack had just apologized.


	6. Chapter 6

"I will give you a choice, Tau'ri." Chiron stood next to her stone bed with his muscular arms folded across his chest. Shaboni didn't think she liked being called 'Tau'ri', the way this creature spat the word. He waited as if demanding she ask him to reveal her options. She said nothing. When he realized she was not going to play his game he added, "I know that you are not alone. Your people come through the Chappa'ai in groups. You will tell me where the rest of them are, or I shall take the information from you in a most uncomfortable manner." His tone was amiable, almost friendly. But the sincerity of the promise behind his words belied his quiet tactic.

Strategizing, she knew that there was no reason to anger Chiron at this point. She realized that the little she knew of the Stargate program would be of no use to him, so she responded, "There are no others. I was coming here alone."

Chiron tipped his head sideways, appraising her steely gray eyes in the light he'd lit around the perimeter of the room. He believed her claim that there were no others. If she were, indeed, alone this would prove to be most advantageous. No one would be coming for her any time soon.

She didn't turn away from him the way the women of Dashou did. This strange woman displayed no fear in front of him whatsoever. Typically such insolence would be more than enough provocation to bring swift and painful punishment. But in this woman of the Tau'ri, he'd decided, it was not angering. It was appealing. It was something he could appreciate, and even better, it was something he could take away from her. The notion of painstakingly removing her defenses one at a time until all that remained was the huddled, broken shell of a woman excited him as much as anything he could remember. It had been nearly a lifetime since he'd had a possession so worthy of his ownership. She didn't realize it yet, but he owned her body and mind. And when he was through with her he would own her soul.

His hand reached down and slid the fabric of her skirt up the side of her toned leg. She attempted to pull away from his touch, but her bonds held fast. The little movement she had managed drew an excruciating objection from her shoulders and back; too long frozen in merciless contortion. She couldn't refuse the gasp of air her lungs drew as abused muscles contracted in spasms of protest. The sound of her pain elicited the tiniest lift in the corners of Chiron's mouth. Yes, this would be a task worth relishing. He would have to go very slowly, for there was no way to know when an opportunity such as this would present itself again.

He removed the heavy gloves he wore, tucking them into the belt of his robe. Then, in anticipation of the task before him, his eyes flashed brightly in the long shadows cast by torch fire. Shaboni never took her eyes off Chiron. She would never allow him to see her fear, but she knew it was there. And so did he. He let his hand trace a lazy pattern from her leg, over her hip, up her stomach, to her neck where he drew a single finger across her jaw line. In the low light he could see the shadows of the contours of her face. Her jaw muscles contracted over clenched teeth.

_Yes, that's right. No fear in the eyes, but the body betrays. _

In a blindingly fast and fluid motion he raised the hand that a moment ago had been touching her almost tenderly and brought his fist down hard, slamming into her mouth. Shaboni's eyes watered as she felt her lips split on teeth. Blood filled her mouth. The tasted of it was sickening. A single pained tear escaped her dark lashes and fell into her hair. But behind the watery proof of the pain he inflicted the steel of her eyes never wavered.

* * *

The insistent beeping of his watch alarm roused the sleeping colonel from disjointed dreams of a woman with long brown curls. As the last wisps of sleep drifted from his mind the image of her face drifted with them. It was time to move out. He roused his sleeping teammates, but found Teal'c dressed and ready to go when he peeked into the room where he'd spent the short night.

"O'Neill." Teal'c's shorthand for "we need to have a conversation" was easily understood after nearly four years.

"Teal'c." Jack walked all the way into the room and waited for the Jaffa to continue.

"The Goa'uld in the video."

"Chiron."

"Yes."

"You know him?"

"He is the son of Cronus." That mere fact sent Jack's eyebrows skyward. Teal'c continued, "He is no better than his father."

"Like father, like son, eh?"

"Indeed. If Captain Uziel has been his captive since her disappearance..." Teal'c let his voice trail off as he considered how best to put his words. "Death would be most preferable to remaining a prisoner of Chiron."

Jack raised a finger to disagree with Teal'c, but the logic of those words wormed beneath the emotional reaction he was having to them. He lowered the finger. Instead of arguing he said, "Understood," and turned and walked out of the room.

The four members of SG-1 and Cassic, their guide, gathered in the pre-dawn darkness of the bar. Cassic had traded the gently flowing fabric of her dress for heavy trousers and a dense woolen sweater. They made a last-minute check of their gear and supplies and headed out into the moonless night. As they made their way into the forest no one spoke; footfalls, breathing, the crunch of flora underfoot, and the occasional snap of a twig the only sounds. As they neared the forest the buzz of insects and occasional cry of a bird grew louder. The bobbing of flashlights disappeared as they stepped into the thick shroud of trees.

Once they were far enough away from the sleeping inhabitants of Dashou, Jack asked Cassic to tell him as much about the palace as she could.

She hesitated before answering with, "I do not know what I can tell you that will aid you, but I will try to remember all I can."

Her hesitant response confirmed for the colonel a suspicion that had been growing in him since her reaction to Daniel's questions about her husband. He felt certain that something had happened to her at that palace. The haunted expression she wore whenever the subject of her husband or the palace itself came up was more than just the sadness of his disappearance. Her dark eyes gleamed with fear when Daniel had asked her about her husband. She had expressed no such fear when they were watching the footage of Chiron and his Jaffa attacking her friends; only anger. He decided that to press the matter now wouldn't help, but he knew sooner or later he was going to need to know what she was hiding. Given that they were already on their way to the palace, it would likely be sooner.

She told them of a small contingent of Jaffa that guarded the entrance to the palace, but that there were secret entrances. "I know where one of them is, but I cannot tell you about anything we might encounter once inside. One thing I do know is that there are many inhabitants within the palace walls. It will be exceedingly difficult to make your way to the lower chambers where prisoners are kept without being seen."

They discussed what she knew of the interior of the palace until finally, when Jack asked the right question (_or the wrong one_), she clammed up.

"What does Chiron want with Dashou's men?"

Her halting chatter about the structure's stone columns and antechambers ceased immediately. She kept walking, but for a very uncomfortable few moments the question hung in the air; refusing to either be answered or to fade away.

Jack reached out and caught Cassic's upper arm, turning her to face him. "Cassic, stop." In the harsh glow of their flashlights she squinted up into the face of the colonel. "We are trying to do more than just rescue our friend here." He paused briefly when she immediately looked at her feet. Softening his tone he continued repeating what Daniel had said to her earlier, "We're going to try and help Dashou. We've done it before on other worlds. But it won't work if you won't help us." She kept her head down.

Seeing that the gentle approach was failing, Jack switched tactics. "We're walking into a Goa'uld-occupied Jaffa stronghold! Now tell me what you're hiding!"

Her head snapped up at the commanding tone of his voice. There were bright tears in her eyes. "He STAYED!" She screamed it at them. The grief in her voice made Daniel's hands shake. He knew the depth of pain that made that sound.

"What do you mean? Who stayed?"

"Nathan. My husband." She was fully crying now: tears running in rivulets down both cheeks. Suddenly the floodgates were opened and all her words came spilling out. "We were both very young when we were captured by Chiron. I was imprisoned for more than three seasons. Nathan was taken to another part of the palace to work as a slave to the Jaffa. Chiron would come to my cell and make me wear dresses. He wanted me to…" she swallowed as the parts that were too hard to say came to the surface, "dance…and sing for him. Nathan became the slave of a Jaffa who seemed to like him very much. Another Jaffa was trying to overtake his position and Nathan caught him. He was able to save the life of the Jaffa he served." The words started to come faster and faster as they tumbled out of her for the very first time. "As a reward for his loyalty the Jaffa brought him to my cell, but…" A sob constricted her throat, but she pressed onward, unable to stem the forcefulness of the flow of memories. "When he arrived he found me…with…" She averted her eyes as she spoke her shame into the world. "He found me with Chiron. And I was already with child."

Sam looked away. She had heard a hundred stories on a hundred worlds where the Goa'uld had ruthlessly ruled. She had even been to hell herself, quite literally, on Netu. But having to force this woman to share the worst moment of her life with a group of strangers who were using her to their own ends as well, seemed to her to be almost as cruel as what the Goa'uld had done to her. She felt sick to her stomach.

Daniel, on the other hand, was still looking for answers. Using the pressing need of their situation to distract him from the sudden power of his own grief over the loss of his wife he pressed her, "Cassic, I'm so sorry that happened to you. I understand what kind of evil you faced. We have seen the evil of the Goa'uld for ourselves." The earnestness in his voice was meant to comfort, but he still didn't understand. "But what did you mean by, 'he stayed'?"

"I escaped," she supplied. "I could not allow Chiron to have the child. When I got out of the lower level, the dungeon, I found Nathan. The Jaffa he had been a slave to had been killed for bringing him to see me, and Chiron had taken him as a personal slave." She paused as if to implicate something particularly horrible by that revelation. "When I saw him I told him I had escaped and come for him so that we could flee together, but he refused to go with me. He told me that he belonged to Chiron now, and that I must leave the palace and never return. He didn't _want _me anymore." Finally, the strain of revealing all she kept locked in her heart and memory overtook her. Her knees buckled and she sank to the forest floor, sobbing uncontrollably.

Jack bent down and put a hand on her shoulder feeling her shake beneath it. He looked up at his team's faces. In them he saw the vast array of emotions he felt: hot anger at the injustices done to these people, guilt for having pried the intensely personal story from the woman, and compassion for her pain.

They all stood silently and let Cassic cry it out. After a time she came to the end of her tears. She wiped at her face and stood back up. Facing their worried looks she spoke more calmly than anyone would have expected, "I have never revealed these things. I tell you now because I believe that there is every chance your friend is still alive. Chiron…" she paused, "…Chiron believes all that he does is art. He takes great care, time, and measure with all he possesses."

Jack's heart slammed in his chest. Her words had been similar to Teal'c's in meaning, but far more descriptive. He hadn't needed help imagining what an evil bastard like Chiron would be doing to Shaboni, but Cassic's carefully chosen words had conjured images that he'd thus far been able to force away. Movement was needed here: one-foot-in-front-of-the-other kind of movement. He held out his hand indicating that Cassic should take the lead and they got back under way. As he walked he used the rhythm of his steps and his breathing to force aside the persistent thoughts and images, actions smoothing the fraying edges of his skilled composure.

They walked on through the blackness of the night. The cold air felt as thick and hard to breathe as the steamy heat of day.

* * *

Chiron had had his fun for the time being. When he left Shaboni alone in her cell he ordered one of his Jaffa to release her from the shackles. She'd briefly toyed with the idea of trying to escape, but had quickly come to the conclusion it was simply not the right time. She was weak from exposure, thirst, and hunger. There would be no overpowering her captors. She would have to find another means of escaping.

When her hands and feet were free and she was again alone she rolled off the high stone table that had been her bed for two days. Her strength failed her and she couldn't catch herself as she crashed to the hard floor. Every inch of her body screamed from the agony of the abusive position she'd been in, but the singing throb of pain in her face was the worst of it. He'd pounded on her mouth repeatedly. She tried to ascertain her injuries, but her fingers were numb from a lack of blood and the cold. Her shoulders ached and spasmed forcefully as she tried to push herself into a more comfortable position. All she could manage was to curl into a fetal ball and try to warm her frozen extremities. She lay curled on the floor until the faint light of day began to fill the air around her from the tiny slice of window at the top of the room. The cold was banished with the darkness and she felt her bones begin to warm. Still too weak to move she prayed silently for sleep. Her mind grew quiet and the peacefulness of approaching darkness began to overtake her. As she surrendered to it the image of a face she knew she should despise flashed in her mind's eye.

Jack. All smiles and warm brown eyes, and despite what he'd done she found herself clinging to that image: hoping against all logic that she would see that face again. The back-and-forth of her emotions regarding him was confusing, but her exhausted mind was at the mercy of instinct.

* * *

They trudged through the dense undergrowth of the forest for more than an hour. Sam checked her watch and informed them that sunrise was still nearly an hour away.

"How much further?" the colonel asked Cassic.

"We must approach the palace from the shelter of the cliffs. This route will lead us there. It is not far now." The forward momentum of their journey had worked its calming magic on the lot of them. Cassic felt her strength growing as she walked. She had told these people of her shame and her betrayal of her husband, but they had not turned her away. She had seen the same fierce determination in Shaboni when she had arrived searching for the scientists that had lived in Dashou. The people of the Tau'ri had believed to the last one that Dashou should be free from Chiron's reign. She wondered what it was about them that made their belief so powerful. All of Dashou longed for escape from the evil of oppression, but so few believed it possible.

Her mind wandered to Senna's own passionate hatred of the Goa'uld. Senna had been the first woman to dance in the courtyard of the city. She had pinned an image of her husband to her blouse and begun the nightly ritual alone. Everyone had watched her from the false safety of their homes and businesses. The talk in the tavern raised question that she had gone insane from grief: dancing in the open with her arms holding nothing but the air. But all those who really knew Senna laughed at the notion she had gone mad. It had been Annan who finally joined her in the square. She produced an image of her father and danced alongside her friend. Many seasons had passed and more and more women began to join the dance. Senna had once asked Cassic why she would not dance with them. Cassic had ducked the question. How could she tell this fearless woman of the horrible things she had done? Senna was a wise woman and realized that Cassic would likely never answer her, and she would also never dance with them. She never asked again.

Sensing the renewed strength in their traveling companion, Daniel decided it was time to try again. He stepped quickly to walk beside her, "Cassic, you never told us what it is that Chiron wants with all the men of Dashou."

"He wants them as slaves," she replied.

"I understand that, but why does he need so many? Is it for mining?"

"No, only the older men with great strength are sent to the mines." Daniel considered her response. It didn't make sense. The Goa'uld typically didn't take the very young as personal slaves. In his opinion it was because the impetuousness of youth made for difficult subjects. They had all noticed that there had been no teenage boys in Dashou. They also didn't tend to keep quite so many in close quarters. The more people had a chance to work together and talk with one another the less able their captors were to keep them disillusioned.

Suddenly another question occurred to the young doctor, "Cassic, you said you escaped before the child was born…"

Cassic froze in place again, knowing what he was asking. She forced herself to speak against the panic that rose in her chest, "Sheylun. She is…"

Jack's thoughts flashed to the adorable little girl thrusting her tiny hand into his, swinging his arm as they walked together. His stomach rolled as he realized the violent beginning she'd had. He suddenly very much wanted Daniel to stop asking questions. Not one more. He didn't want to know one more thing about the hell this woman had endured.

But Daniel, being Daniel, continued. "She is Chiron's daughter?"

"She is, but she does not know. Please don't…"

"We would never interfere like that," Daniel reassured her.

"Excuse me," Colonel O'Neill interrupted them, "can we continue?"

The two of them walked on, Daniel pondering the exact implications of this information. Just then they rounded a corner and broke from the tree line. In the darkness they couldn't see beyond the light cast by their flashlights, which they quickly stowed now that they were out in the open.

"We have arrived. You will be able to see the palace from this place once the sun returns, but it is a difficult climb in the dark," Cassic informed them.

The five of them found a secure spot to await the sunrise. Jack dug out his night vision binoculars and searched for any sign of life. Sam followed suit and the two of them crouched prone on their stomachs peering over the ridge.

"I count four Jaffa at the entrance," Sam said.

"Yep. That's not much of a guard." Colonel O'Neill scooted back around and sat with his back against a large boulder. He turned to Cassic, "Is that typical?"

"Yes. There are only four that guard the entrance. But there are many who take quarter inside. If we attempt to enter through the front we will alert the whole palace to our presence. Our only hope is to steal away into one of the tunnels that run along the far side. It will not be guarded on the outside. I do not know if there will be a guard on the inside."

The colonel flipped the lens cap closed on his binoculars and contemplated their situation. This was not going to be easy.


	7. Chapter 7

Chiron waited another few days before he returned to Shaboni's cell. She had been allowed to remain free of the shackles, but when he decided to pay her a visit his First Prime ordered her to lie back down on the torturous bed of stone. She'd gone without but the most meager of rations, been exposed to extreme heat and cold, and suffered from the painful cuts and swollen bruises from Chiron's abuse of her face. Dehydration had caused her swollen lips to pull at the cuts he'd inflicted, widening them. Whenever she moved her mouth at all she would taste blood anew.

Shaboni swallowed against the sickening surge of adrenalin that coursed through her at being forced back into irons, hands over her head, feet locked nearly two feet apart. It burned like hot needles in her veins. She knew that thus far she hadn't endured much in the way of mistreatment at Chiron's own hands, but the stone bed with its shackles was astonishingly effective torture. Left for hours in that impossible position the mind worked at a feverish pace routing holes in her practiced defenses.

It was late day when he returned. The cell and everything within it was slick with steamy moisture. Shaboni's hair clip had long since abandoned her and her curls clung tightly to her sweaty skin. Her clothes hung on her heavily. Chiron set about placing the torches around the room, as he had before, so that he could see the specimen of his intentions. His First Prime was stationed at the cell's door and ordered to stand guard. Shaboni fixed her eyes on Chiron coolly as he approached her.

"You wish to ask me more questions," she declared.

Chiron stood beside her prone figure, head tilted ever so slightly. He grinned at her outright and responded, "I have only one question for you." Shaboni's right eyebrow shot towards her hair in askance, as if they were actually having a conversation. Chiron knelt on one knee so that he could position his mouth next to her ear. He waited a moment for her anxiety to build as he breathed against the side of her face. Even the sound of his breath seemed distorted to her ear, like the impossibly low timbre of his voice. Finally, when he was satisfied that he'd made an imposingly intimate gesture, he crooned, "Tell me your name, Tau'ri."

Shaboni held breathlessly still. She could not answer him; could not give him her name. The sense of revulsion at the thought of him uttering her name screamed in her head, but she would not shudder nor turn away. He lifted his face to peer into her eyes: the slate gray of hers, the icy blue of his. She could smell something like meat and wine on his breath. Her stomach turned at the strong stench of it. Still, she met his eyes with every last ounce of steel she could muster.

"I will ask you once more," his tone had lost its friendly conversational feel. She knew that she was at danger's threshold, but there was no hope she would give him her name. Not her name…

He pushed himself to his feet and pulled a short rod from a belt at his hip. Clearly relishing her rebellious denial, he slowly twisted the rod in the flickering torchlight, showing it to her. "Do you know what this is?"

"I am sure you will educate me."

He made a show of examining the length of the rod: just over a foot long, like a conductor's baton in length. In the warm light of the room Shaboni could see reflection coming off the thick shaft telling her it was most likely some form of metal. One end was clearly thicker than the other with the slender end tapering to a distinct point; not sharp enough to easily pierce skin, but obviously designed to inflict pain.

"This is an instrument of my art," he held it up so she could clearly see it. Then with smooth precision he stepped to her bare feet and thrust the sharp end of the rod into the sole of her left foot just above the center of her arch. The pain was instantaneous and excruciating. Shaboni sucked at the stale hot air through teeth ground together. Chiron flicked his wrist ever so slightly, driving the tip of his 'instrument' deeper into the bundle of nerves running across the bottom of her foot. Pain shot from her foot all the way up the back of her leg, finally seizing her lower spine. A scream tore from her throat, unbidden. At that point she realized that it was hubris to fight what the body would do naturally. Torture was as much a science as it was an art, and the practice of it had been honed across millennia and across galaxies. Defiantly attempting to remain quiet when the body fought to release its pain would only hasten the process of weakening. She would tire that much more quickly, and once it reached that tipping point she would likely be unable to aid herself in escaping.

In the mere minute that Chiron had been pressing his baton into her foot she'd gone through dozens of thoughts, not the least of which being a fantasy involving her sidearm and some very messy frangible rounds that promised to leave tiny chunks of skin, bone, and brain matter scattered about. When he released the pressure from her foot the pain receded instantly. No longer wasting energy trying to win the battle of mettle, Shaboni's eyes closed in relief. Had she been watching him she would have noticed just the slightest hint of disappointment that his toy no longer seemed to playing along. She was giving in too quickly.

Chiron glared down at the woman. He would have to be careful how he proceeded. If he pushed too much too soon his fun would be spoiled. He considered his vast array of tools. Each tactic was useful in achieving differing states of vulnerability. There were drugs used to extract information and assure compliance, but he abhorred their use. They were cheats to be used only by those who refused to take the time to properly instruct their subjects. Still, he found them useful in compelling the acquiescence of certain hotheaded slaves: the very young and defiant, or those who professed undying love.

There were worlds of methods for inflicting pain, but pain alone had never been of much use to him. It was about teaching them. Teaching them the world they knew before was gone; that he was master of all they would know from here on out. He could bring pleasure as quickly as he could pain, but only true affection would buy his kindness. Obsequiousness would only bring punishment. Sycophants could be plied by any being with a little power. Even the Jaffa had slaves that would gratefully wash their feet. But, alas, the Jaffa were slaves, themselves, and had no real power of their own. No, what Chiron sought was more than just the easy fealty of the oppressed. He wanted to be loved. A _true_ God.

Deciding to push ahead he continued with his earlier question, "Now, tell me your name."

Shaboni opened her eyes and met his contemplative look. "I will not." Slowly, the dictates of training won out. Despite the knowledge of what continuing to fight him in a war she could not win would do to her, the intensity returned to her eyes.

Chiron watched her will reassert itself and thought how he quite liked the color of her eyes. They had the quality of the sky before snow. He made a mental note that he must have a painting of the sky just that color.

"I know you will not," he responded. The skin around his eyes crinkled as demented mirth lit his features. In a blur of motion he jabbed the sharp end of his instrument into the same spot as before. Shaboni's entire body locked in a rigid convulsion as though electricity were coursing through her. Her teeth clenched so forcefully she feared they would shatter, and with each agonizing breath spittle shot from between them. Chiron slowly turned the rod back and forth to ground the pressure ever deeper. When at last he relented, Shaboni made a strangled sound like a choking animal. She couldn't help but pull at the merciless iron fist holding her ankles in place, which only served to bruise and cut her skin as they dug deeper.

Chiron watched her as she writhed against the impossible grasp of pain. When she stilled at last he used the baton in his hand to trace a path from the arch of her foot up the inside of her leg, pulling the fabric of her skirt up. Placing one knee on the stone table beside her own knees, Chiron confidently straddled Shaboni's now-bare legs. He positioned himself with his knees to either side of hers, then rose up to place his hands to either side of her chest. He looked menacingly into her eyes and allowed the heightened emotions of the moment to bring a flash of light to his own. "You will resist, but that does not mean that I will stop asking."

The nearness of him felt suffocating. Shaboni tried to turn her head away, but found that his long blond hair hung down, draping itself across her mouth and nose. The sickeningly sweet perfumed scent that coated his hair lingered in her nostrils. She fought the urge to wretch as she both tasted and smelled incense and oils that failed to cover the scent of other bodies, other encounters. Clearly, Chiron had his appetites. She turned her head back to his face. Once again they locked eyes in the little game they were playing. Shaboni held herself against what she feared was coming. She knew that in all likelihood she would be raped at some point, but knowing the cold and removed facts of torture and living through its every sensation were quite different.

To her astonishment, Chiron did not violate her. Not completely. He tucked his baton back into a loop at his belt and unsheathed a strange-looking short knife. The torchlight flickered and bounced off its gleaming surface. He waved it under her nose and sneered when she flinched, trying to back away from the sharpened edge.

He pressed the flat side of the knife against her cheek then scraped it down the length of her body. Holding himself on his knees and supporting his weight with his other hand, he reached between his own knees and began the slow taunting of drawing the knife's tip up her inner leg. Shaboni held her breath when he got to the soft flesh above her knee. Relishing her obvious anxiety, Chiron pressed the tip in harder and pulled the knife as far up her inner thigh as possible, leaving a bleeding gash. Her mind spun madly at the fear he would try and split her in two, but instead he stopped just short of plunging the knife into her.

He merely sat back onto her legs just below her knees and stared at her. It wasn't as if he could not just take whatever pound of flesh he desired. He seemed to want more than just whatever physical gratification he could have. They remained locked in each other's gaze for more than a minute. Finally, as if coming to some difficult conclusion, Chiron sheathed his knife and grabbed the short stick he'd been using before. He flipped the baton in his hand and suddenly clubbed Shaboni across the left temple with a metallic "thunk". Starry flashes of white and purple light edged out her vision. She felt him push off her legs and dismount the torture table. He gave her one more chance to admit defeat, "Tell me your name."

Shaboni's vision began to clear, and over the roar of blood in her ears she heard him ask for her name again. Without consideration, utterly empty of all thought she managed, "Never."

Now more pleased with the way things were going, Chiron's mouth hardened into a smug slash. She thought he was turning to go, but, just as he'd done in the courtyard, he quickly spun back on her and with fury he slammed the thick end of the baton across the upper arch of her left foot. The injury he'd inflicted to the bundle of nerves there exploded with a sensation she could not quantify. It seemed as if all the bones in her foot had exploded into splinters that were now shredding their way free of her flesh. Her agonized, animalistic screams continued long after he breezed from the cell. When she quieted down, his First Prime entered her cage and unlocked her shackles.

This time she did not move. The pain of Chiron's attack continued to linger. Her head was swimming and she feared if she even shifted her eyes she would vomit. She didn't know how long she held herself against the dizzying waves of vertigo washing over her, but after a time she heard keys in the lock again. Still, she did not turn to see who entered.

The shuffling of feet and the sound of the water bucket heralded Nathan's arrival. He sat the bucket down and peered through the dark at the deathly still figure on the table. When she did not greet him with her unusual questions, he placed his hand to her chest feeling for life. Through the swelling of her left eye, Shaboni could see him visibly relax when he felt her breathing. He bent to the bucket and began ministrations to her cut and bloodied face. The water this time was cool as it trickled over her skin into her hair.

"You have been uncooperative," Nathan commented to her quietly.

"He was asking me to be telling my name." In her battered state her difficulty with English only worsened.

Nathan quickly cleaned the blood from her face, squeezing the water out of the rag like a gentle shower. He rinsed as much blood from her leg as he could then dipped the rag into the water and brought it to her mouth. When she didn't suck from it as she had previously he made a little face. Squeezing the rag for her, he let the water dribble past her parted lips. She swallowed what she could, but choked and began to cough. Nathan reached behind her neck and encouraged her to sit. He pulled her into a seated position with strong, sure hands. The change in position prompted a new wave of dizzying nausea and, when she could not suppress another bout of coughing, her vision dimmed and she felt herself begin to tip off the table. Nathan caught her and rolled her swiftly to her side as her coughing was followed by a bout of vomiting. There was so little in her stomach to begin with it quickly turned to fruitless heaving. Once that played out she collapsed into a barely-conscious heap, arms hanging off the table, eyes open but unseeing.

Nathan was concerned that if she moved at all she would fall and injure herself further. He gathered her in his arms and carried her to the pile of straw he'd brought for her the day before. She'd pushed it into one corner of the cell and formed a pallet on which she could lay off of the stone and dirt of the floor. Nathan knew it was paltry, but it was all he could offer her in the way of comfort besides the little water and bread he'd been able to bring her.

He knew that something was very different about this prisoner. Chiron had been completely distracted from his usual activities since she'd arrived; unable to be soothed by the musicians, uninterested in the studies of his many young students around the palace. Typically, he took great interest in each and every work they produced, critiquing it with high-minded grandiosity. In the week since this woman had been brought to the palace, Chiron had become fixated on her, but would only spend a few minutes at a time in her cell. It was unlike anything he'd ever witnessed of his master prior.

Shaboni's pained groan pulled Nathan from his thoughts. She was trying to push herself off the pile of straw. Nathan bent down and gathered her up once more, laying her further back towards the wall. When that little movement clearly caused her more pain, he felt certain to try to do anything further for her would only make it worse. He gathered his bucket and poured the water on the table and ground, washing the blood and vomit away. He looked once more to the crumpled pile of woman lying on the straw. She appeared to have either fallen asleep or lost consciousness. He thought perhaps that was the best thing that could happen, and he slipped as quietly as possible from the room.

* * *

They had found getting into the palace to be much easier than anticipated, but maneuvering the corridors was proving to be every bit as difficult as Cassic had suggested. Every few minutes someone would walk past their position. Luckily they all seemed to have purpose in their step and no time for wandering about aimlessly. When the way was clear once again, they advanced towards the center of the building.

As they came to an empty antechamber they investigated. Daniel walked into the center of the room with his mouth parted in silent fascination. He looked at the high ceiling and pointed, "Titans."

"As in "Remember the…?" Jack asked.

"Um, no. These are paintings similar to the ones Rubens did of the ancient Greek mythological beings. He painted one series called 'Titans'." Daniel walked over to one group of intricately painted pictures of men in flowing robes still pointing, "This looks like the 'Fall of the Titans', and this…" he pointed to another, "looks a lot like Saturn."

Jack sidled up to his exuberant teammate, "Doesn't Saturn have rings?"

Daniel looked at him, brow furrowed, "Saturn…Saturnus, as in Cronus."

Jack continued to examine the painting on the ceiling and asked casually, "Daniel, is he _eating a baby_?"

"Myth holds that Cronus actually ate his offspring until Hera hid Zeus from him. When Zeus grew strong he led an attack on the Titans and forced Cronus to regurgitate his young."

Jack listened to this explanation in horror, "Daniel, that's just…ew."

Daniel abandoned the ceiling in favor of a doorway at the other end of the room. It was covered by a heavy drape that hung from hooks on the columns at either side of the doorway. He pushed the drape aside and peeked into the adjoining room. When he was satisfied that it was also empty he disappeared behind the drape.

"Daniel?" Sam followed after him. The rest of their group soon found themselves standing in what was clearly a classroom. Down one side there were easels and partially finished paintings. There were studies on the classical nude form affixed to one wall and works of sculpture along the other. Daniel walked by the first few easels and suddenly he turned to Cassic.

"Chiron is the name of the Goa'uld that lives here?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Cassic, has Cronus returned to Dahsou since Chiron has been here?"

She thought for a moment, "No, he has not."

"Jack…" They could all see Daniel's wheels spinning. It was likely that answers they'd been seeking were forthcoming, but it had occurred to the more militarily-minded of the five that they were standing in a room with only one exit.

"Daniel, we need to get out of here." They all quietly made their way to the door of the antechamber, and seeing that the corridor was clear, they then made their way across to a staircase.

As they followed the staircase down into the depths of the palace Daniel thought to himself, "I think I know why all the young boys were taken."


	8. Chapter 8

When Shaboni awoke she found herself lying on the pile of crushed straw that Nathan had given her. She'd been in and out of consciousness so many times since those first days that she no longer knew how many days she'd been captive. She pulled her knees in and thrust her hands between her legs, careful to avoid the many cuts and slashes on her inner thighs. She tried to force warmth into her freezing fingers. Every night it was the same story: the sun would disappear and all the heat that turned her little prison into an oven would leach out of the stone. But the wet of the constant daily steam baths would still be there. The air was always dripping with moisture. In the bitter cold that moisture would settle into a cloud of fog that clung to every surface. Her blouse and skirt would become heavy, her pile of straw now smelled musty with damp. The daily exposure to the extreme heat and then wet cold was taking an impressive toll, indeed.

Chiron would come, have her bound to the terrible stone bed at the center of her cell, demand she reveal her name and punish her physically. He still insisted she give him her name, and nothing more. He never asked her to do anything but submit her name. And she still knew that she could never give it to him. She would deny him that simple victory to her dying breath, which she figured would be coming soon. He wouldn't wait but perhaps a full day before returning, never giving her injuries time to heal before he inflicted new ones. She'd lost count of the number of times he'd struck her feet. In the few hours she was given between visits she had tried to sleep as much as possible. He seemed to wait just long enough for her pain to subside enough to allow her to fall asleep. But he never left her long enough for significant healing nor sleep to take place. As a result she'd completely lost track of time. After he'd clubbed her temple she was unable to stay conscious for very long for several days, but it felt like weeks since that had happened.

Nathan arrived at her cell and entered cautiously. He always seemed to be afraid of what he would find. Whenever she was able she would push herself up to meet him, but if she were too still he would always lay his gentle cool hands across her chest to see if she was breathing. It was clear that he expected her to die.

Shaboni didn't sit to relieve him of his worry. She was simply too weak. He knelt beside her and saw that she was awake.

"Hello," she offered hoarsely.

He made a concerned face and placed a hand on her forehead. "You are sick."

"Yes." She smiled at him, grateful for his compassion.

"You burn with fever," he explained as he began to reach for his ever-present companion water bucket.

Shaboni let him pull her into a seated position. She freed her hands from her skirt and tried to coax feeling back into them. Nathan handed her a small cup of water and she sipped it gently. He reached into his pocket and pulled out bread that was cleverly wrapped around some kind of sweet fruit pieces.

He bent to whisper in her ear, "I have more of both if you wish. The fruit will give you better strength."

Shaboni tucked the little sandwich into her hand and nibbled at it slowly. The paltry amount of fresh water and food were more comforting than she could ever remember. In her years of military service she had never been captured and held prisoner. Now she was captive for the second time in a year. A sudden longing for her former life filled her, causing a lump to rise in her throat. At least, she reasoned, she would be in the desert and away from the oppressive moisture that filled the air and clung to every surface.

Nathan dipped his cloth into the water and placed it across her forehead. Shaboni closed her eyes and let the kind young man aid her. It was the only sweetness available to her in this hellish place. He cleaned her face of dirt, rinsed his cloth, then applied it fresh to her fevered head.

"Thank you," she murmured.

There were sounds of armor-clad feet down the corridor outside the chamber that held her cell. Nathan jumped up and grabbed his bucket then hurried out of the cell without a word. Shaboni thrust the comforting wet cloth into her straw pile, then she gulped down the little water left in her tiny cup and hid the bread and fruit inside the cup. She placed the cup beside the cloth and covered them both with straw. By the time the Jaffa was at her door she was ready for him.

"Lay down on the table," he instructed her.

_Here we go again._

Shaboni crawled on her hands and knees onto the table. The bottoms of her feet here so bruised and battered by Chiron's repeated beatings she dared not stand. Chiron entered her cage and set the torches around like always, except today he was agitated, restless. This was not a comforting thought. In other circumstances a distracted foe was far easier to overcome, but after weeks as his captive she no longer had any clue as to how she might free herself from this prison.

Chiron stopped his distracted pacing and settled his gaze on the object of his frustration. "You deny me the simplest of answers. I ask you only one question and yet you refuse to comply. I have no wish to end your life. Not yet." He rubbed at his chin in a distinctly human mannerism. She could see she'd definitely gotten under his skin. She prayed silently for the strength to remain steadfast.

But Chiron had tired of her strength.

"I am beginning to think that you will never love your god by your own choosing."

Shaboni's blood ran cold. He was expecting her to _love_ him?

"You have left me no choice but to seek alternative methods of persuasion." He paused as he considered his options, "Yes, you will make a fine host."

A voice in her head screamed at her, _NO NO NO NONONO._ Torture she could take. Beat her within an inch of her life. Cook her, freeze her, starve her. Anything. But his idea of alternative means of persuasion was a fate worse than death.

Panicky fingers slithered into place around her throat. She had never seen a Goa'uld, but she had seen images and read reports from the SGC. The image of the snake-like parasite forcing its way into her brain sent a horrible shudder through her. Frantically she searched her thoughts for some kind of hope, but there was none. She was still completely at his mercy. For a moment she slipped, her resolve shaken, and nearly told him her name. She could feel her tongue against her teeth as her mouth moved to form the words. Conflicted, she bit down on her bottom lip to hold back the sounds. She could _never_ give him her name.

He was so agitated by her persistent refusal to answer him, Chiron ceased his frustrated musings and removed his baton from its loop at his waist. He didn't bother with trying to heighten her anxiety. He didn't threaten. No, this time he simply bashed her in the head. In quick succession he swung the baton twice more, one blow striking her shoulder, the last smashing into her cheek and lips. The blindingly fast assault lasted only a moment, but Chiron had succeeded in dimming the fire of her eyes. She suddenly couldn't tell if he wanted to make her a host or if he was simply so angry with her that he would kill her then and there. Instead of relief that she would finally be free, her fevered, bruised brain found no comfort in either notion.

Chiron stepped to her side and grabbed her lower jaw. He turned her face towards him and a trickle of blood wormed its way free of the corner of her mouth. She winced at the movement of her head. Her whole body gave a violent shudder and all the light went out of the room. She saw only gray.

Suddenly he didn't seem so distracted and anxious. A smiled pressed his lips wide. The thumb pressing into her cheek moved gently to intersect the dripping of blood into her hair. He smeared the gore across her face.

"At last you show fear, Tau'ri," he grinned even broader. "Shall I ask you my question one last time?"

Shaboni stood precariously at the edge of a great void in her own mind. Through the sound of all the oceans at once she heard a strange voice. The voice beckoned her, but the rushing water was so loud she couldn't understand it. There were no thoughts, only pain. Everywhere, pain. Was the voice coming from the darkness floating beneath her, reaching for her? If she could only hear it better…

So she jumped.

She could feel the blackness of the void all around her. All thought and reason fell at great speed and dashed itself on the rocks of her subconscious. The cloying dark reached in and took everything from her. She wanted so desperately to reach out to the voice! It was, she told no one in particular, the only way to survive.

Cold deep words rushed in to catch her, "Tell me your name."

Name? She had a name. She knew that it was something she should know. But the rushing waves of water in her ears were dragging her deeper into the black.

The stain of memory had left her and all there was left to her world was this hideous approximation of a man standing there holding her face. Grasping at the words like a lifeline she finally responded, "I do not know."

He let go and stepped back. So sudden was the shock that he had not considered how a god should respond. "Asclepius!" His First Prime stepped forward into the pool of firelight.

"Free her."

"Yes, Lord Chiron."

Asclepius bowed to Chiron as he strode forcefully from the prison cell, brow furrowed and clearly flustered. He reached to unbind the woman and found her demeanor so shockingly different from every single other time he'd performed this task he hesitated. She was conscious, but she was shaking like a leaf. Tears were streaming from her eyes. Asclepius frowned at the idea that Chiron had finally broken the woman. He had inflicted extreme pain on this Tau'ri woman for many weeks and each and every time she had refused his question. As a soldier, Asclepius had found he quite respected the strength in this female. He had never seen anyone, man or woman, withstand Chiron's specialized attention day after day with such a will of iron. This trembling thing before him now did not fit. He realized he had been hoping that the woman would withstand Chiron's efforts the whole time.

And he had seen Chiron's shock at her words.

_I do not know._

Asclepius could not refuse the image as it leapt to his mind. His god had been surprised and confused by her answer. He had always presumed that Chiron knew the Tau'ri woman's name from the start but needed to force her to reveal it as a method of breaking down her will. Now he could not deny what he had witnessed with his own eyes. Chiron had _never_ known this woman's name. Asclepius' head spun.

The woman stretched out before him continued to shiver and shake. Asclepius reached down and gently pushed her hair away from her eyes, shocked at the intense heat that radiated from her face. She began mumbling something over and over:

"I do not know. I do not know."

Everyone in the palace had seen the change in Chiron since this Tau'ri woman had been brought here. He had been restless and distracted as if working out the answer to a great puzzle. Asclepius had witnessed with his own eyes her fierce determination in the face of certain defeat as Chiron had slowly and methodically worked to destroy her. She had screamed, as they all do, when the pain had become too great, but as soon as her screams stopped the fire in her stormy eyes would return and she would deny a god one simple word again and again. Asclepius realized that she had been entirely unexpected from the first. She had become more than just a distraction for Chiron, more than just a new plaything. She was a conundrum. And that threatened to dismantle everything he thought he knew. How could a god be so confused?

_I do not know._

He sat next to her and reached for her hands to unlock the heavy iron bracelets. He did the same for her feet. She did not move. Asclepius reached for her arms and brought them from over her head to rest on her abdomen. As her hands rested there he tested the pulse in her wrist, like he'd been taught to do so long ago. He had been raised with knowledge of all the healing arts. Her heartbeat was incredibly fast. He didn't know exactly why he cared, but the intent had formed itself sometime between his entering the cell and now, when he sat himself heavily on the table next to her waist, the burden of understanding filling his mind. He felt certain he had to keep her alive.

He began to formulate a plan. There was nothing further he could do for her just then, so he rose to leave her. As he made his way out of the prison and into the adjoining corridor he encountered the court slave, Nathan.

"Are you the one bringing water and food to the Tau'ri woman?"

Nathan cast his eyes at his feet, fearing the fruit he had snuck to her had been discovered, "Yes. Lord Chiron instructed me to give her just that which would keep her alive."

"Meet my eyes." The command, like the tone of Asclepius' voice, was oddly soft. Nathan looked up and met the deep brown eyes of Chiron's First Prime. "Provide for her whatever sustenance she requires. And see to it that she has a blanket for nighttime." Then he strode off leaving Nathan gaping after his back.

* * *

SG-1 and Cassic made their way into the lower level of the palace. Cassic's memory of the place had come back to her quickly once she was on the inside. She led them quickly to the place where she had been kept. There were rows of prison cells with iron bars. Some were filled with men, some with boys. They got to the end of the corridor, but there was no sign of Shaboni.

"Now what?" Sam expressed their collective frustration.

"There are individual cells that are separate from the others. Chiron keeps certain special prisoners there." Cassic took them around a corner to another staircase leading partway back up to the level they'd come from.

"Split-level, nice," Colonel O'Neill quipped.

They hadn't encountered anyone other than the prisoners in several minutes and Teal'c began to get the urgent feeling that if they did not find a place to conceal themselves they would be discovered at any moment. He quickened his step and overtook Cassic and O'Neill to demonstrate his desire. Cassic looked questioningly at Jack, but Jack understood Teal'c's intention without words. He nodded at her as an instruction to follow and she accepted that the Jaffa knew what he was doing. They followed as he led them to a series of columns. Behind them were ornamental drapes hanging to the floor, providing a perfect spot for cover.

The five of them pressed their bodies flat against the wall when they heard the sudden staccato footfalls of a Jaffa in battle armor. Jack pushed the curtain aside just enough to see the golden tattoo of a First Prime on the forehead of the Jaffa striding purposefully through the corridor ahead of them. He held one finger to his lips to indicate to Cassic that she should be silent. They all breathed as quietly as they could and waited until the corridor was empty again, then made their way out from behind the curtain as Cassic indicated they should go the same direction the Jaffa had gone. Jack looked at her incredulously and commented quietly, "Are you _nuts_?" Ignoring his strange question she nodded emphatically, insisting that they should follow him.

Jack considered this for a moment then whispered, "Daniel, Carter, you stay here. Watch our six." They nodded and disappeared behind the heavy drapery again. Jack, Teal'c and Cassic made their way along the corridor to where it dead-ended. They cautiously entered the doorway into a long dark room. Jack could feel the damp heat of the outside and realized they were against an outer wall. He saw an isolated cage with bars on two sides against the outside wall halfway down the length of the room. The strong odor of wet earth too long in the dark and putrid filth permeated the chamber. Jack opened his mouth to breathe against the pungent smell of mildew. Pale, sickly light filtered through the bars from somewhere near the ceiling casting long shadows. He was still searching for the glint of Jaffa armor. Just then they heard the murmuring of a man's voice and then a sickening wet cough echoed around the room. Crazy as it sounded to his own head, Jack realized he _knew_ that cough.

Shaboni.

Jack pointed at Cassic and then pointed behind the door, instructing her to hide. She concealed herself in the shadows thoroughly. Teal'c and Jack raised their weapons and advanced on the cell. When they managed to come in full sight of it, the dark obscured its occupants. Jack reached down and clicked on the flashlight bolted to the scope of his weapon, instantly illuminating the scene within.

"Get away from her," his voice was deadly cold. He didn't need to see more than a shock of filthy curly brown hair to know they'd found her. His mind spun with lightness at the sense of relief he felt at seeing her. But what he couldn't quite wrap his head around was the image of a Jaffa, a First Prime at that, on his knees in front of Shaboni with a hand supporting her neck so that he could help her drink from a cup.

Jack reached for his radio and pressed the talk button, "Carter, Daniel, we've found her."

* * *

She couldn't think. Whenever she tried to direct her thoughts her mind swirled away like an object just out of reach. It was like a waking dream. Images and feelings danced at the edges of her mind's eye. She would reach out for one and it would dodge her grasp, spinning away at the last second.

The waters had quieted. She was no longer drowning in darkness. In the quiet she found that she was able to remember a few of the details of her situation. She knew she was imprisoned. She knew it was a monster that had her. She knew that a man with a bucket of sweet cool water would come. Trying to think beyond those three things brought such dizziness to her head she thought it would spin apart.

The kind man was there. She hadn't heard him come shuffling in. His strong arms scooped her from the stone and carried her back to her straw bed. Then he lay her down and her mind paused when the surface beneath her was soft. She opened her eyes and saw heavy brown fabric spread out beneath her. Her hands caressed it in wonder. It was so unlike the insistent itching and poking of the loose straw. She thought it was the most comforting blanket she had ever seen. She felt herself surrendering into its softness.

"Not yet." Words from far away tried to pry her away from the enveloping warmth and sweet darkness. "You must drink this then you may sleep." The bucket man's deep voice was pushing back the blackness that rolled over her. But his voice wasn't deep…

"Come now, sit up so you may drink."

She felt strong hands pulling at her shoulders, forcing her to sit. The world dipped and swayed when she opened her eyes, sensing the light slashing through the corner of the room. She tried to see Nathan in front of her and suddenly her mind came awake with all manner of fear.

It wasn't the man with the water bucket; the strange tattoo on the forehead, the gleam of his armor. She gasped and tried to back away from him, but found she was against a wall.

"Still yourself! I am not going to hurt you." Asclepius tried to calm her before she injured herself further. "I am here to help you." He spoke quietly and spread his hands wide to show her he meant her no harm.

"Wh…Why?" she stammered.

"Because he did not know your name. Now, here, drink this. I have put medicinal herbs in it that will help your fever." He reached out and put his hand behind her neck and lifted a cup to her lips. She took several gulps of the sweet potion and immediately coughed a thick wet cough that echoed off the walls of the chamber.

Suddenly, a piercing light from outside the cell illuminated them.

"Get away from her."

That voice. She _knew_ that voice. The image of a shock of graying hair and his dark eyes flitted across her mind; hands with long graceful fingers in her hair, holding her hand. She definitely knew that voice.

"Carter, Daniel, we've found her."

She tried to see the man behind the bright light, but could not. The man in front of her let go of her neck and stood to his feet. Her head fell heavily against the stone behind her. She wanted to ask the light to move so she could see the voice, but nothing worked. She couldn't get her mouth to make sounds. Her hands fell limply into her lap.

"I am not here to hurt this woman. I am Asclepius, First Prime of Chiron. I have come here to try to save her."

"Right," Jack replied with exaggerated sarcasm.

"I believe he speaks the truth, O'Neill." Teal'c knew that the presence of this Jaffa without his companion guards was unusual. It was a strange scene, even to him.

"Carter, Daniel!" Jack repeated into his radio.

"We're here." Daniel's voice startled them. Jack turned to find his remaining team members disarmed, hands raised, and being marched into the chamber by two Jaffa. He could see beyond the door another four Jaffa guarding the entrance.

"Lower your weapons," Asclepius instructed them.

"Trying to save her, huh?" Jack hesitated, gauging their situation, then unclipped his MP5 and Teal'c dropped his staff weapon.

"Put the four of them in here with the Tau'ri woman. I shall inform our lord that we have prisoners." Asclepius walked confidently from the room without anyone following. The Jaffa relieved SG1 of their gear packs, vests, and side arms and other various weaponry then thrust them into the cell. When they retreated to the other side of the door to the long chamber Jack motioned to Cassic to stay concealed. She huddled down, pressed as tightly into the dark corner as she could manage.

Jack and Sam then quickly made their way to Shaboni's side. He was afraid to touch her. She was gaunt from malnutrition and it was impossible to distinguish dirt from bruises. Sam gingerly felt for a pulse at her neck and nodded at her CO.

"She's alive, but her pulse is pretty weak…and fast."

Jack reached down and placed two fingers at her lower neck to feel for himself, "Geez, she's burning up."

They tried to make out what they could of her condition in the low light afforded by their tiny window. She wore the viciousness of her captor all over her body. Her blouse and skirt were covered in dirt and dried blood. In places where her clothing had torn they could see bones protruding from slack skin covered with fresh and old bruises, alike. Her lips were swollen, impossibly dry, split and bleeding. She had angry bruises and lacerations on both wrists and ankles, and there was a deforming lump spreading from her left temple towards her eyebrow.

Daniel seated himself above them and inspected the table she'd been bound to. There was fresh blood at the head of the table. The iron manacles where her hands had been held were beaded with moisture from the steamy room, preventing the blood that could be found there from drying. Daniel ran a finger across the thick cuffs and came away with a pink drop of watery blood on his fingertip. He bit down on a curse and moved to the floor to see if he could assist Sam and Jack. Seated at her feat he frowned in the shadows at the strange coloring there.

"Jack, look at this," Daniel pointed to her feet.

Jack scooted down to get a better angle, then pushed her legs gently into the shaft of light filtering around the end of her torture table.

"God." He immediately recognized the method used to inflict such colorful markings. "Falanga."

Sam looked up and met his sickened expression with one of her own. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, I'm sure." Jack sat back on his heels and closed his eyes trying, and failing, to not see images of Chiron beating the bottoms of her feet with a thick round stick.

"What is this falanga?" Teal'c asked.

"It's a method of torture. Beating the soles of the feet with sticks, usually. I saw this in Iraq." Jack felt lightheaded. He had seen prisoners who had endured this form of torture come away from it unable to walk. Permanently.

Shaboni could feel hands touching her, hear voices: _familiar_ voices. She tried to open her eyes but she was back in the ocean. Everything above the surface was blurry. In the paltry light she could see the outlines of people in her cell. The voice of a woman filtered through the dense haze filling her head with questions that would not form. A woman?

"Sir," Carter gestured towards her.

Jack looked up from examining her feet to see that Shaboni had opened her eyes.

"Shaboni?" He scooted back around to her side. "Can you hear me?'

She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. She tried to break the surface and reach out to the shapes in the darkness, but the mere effort pulled her deeper. As she sank into the dark depths of unconsciousness her eyes rolled back in her head.

"Hey, open your eyes!" Jack reached out and shook her shoulder, but she didn't respond.

"She will awaken in a few hours." The four of them jumped and turned to see Asclepius standing in the door to the cell's chamber.

Daniel sprang to his feet and charged the bars of their cage, "What did you do to her?"

Asclepius came into the chamber and closed the door behind him. Standing in front of the cell where Daniel faced him he elaborated, "She has endured many, many days of harsh treatment and is quite ill. I have given her a remedy that will cool her fever and make her stronger. I knew that she would not be able to leave this place unless her strength returns. The herbs I gave her have made her sleep."

"You're actually helping her?" Daniel's brow scrunched in disbelief.

Jack joined Daniel at the bars, "If you're helping her, why'd you have us tossed in here with her?"

"Because you were discovered by the others. Had I known you were here and attempting to free her I would have been able to conceal you." He looked askance at Teal'c standing in the corner of their cell, "You fight on the side of the Tau'ri?"

"I am a _free_ Jaffa. I have pledged my allegiance to these," he indicated the rest of SG1.

"Free." He sounded contemplative.

"Indeed." Teal'c softened his expression and bowed his head reverently to Asclepius. He could sense that the moment of choosing had arrived for this fellow Jaffa.

"We must speak more about this, but quickly. I only have a short time before I must return to Chiron. My men are still outside and I am afraid there will be no way for me to prevent Chiron from learning of your presence here. Getting you out will not be a simple matter."

"But you're going to get us out…" Jack couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Chiron will have what he wants from this woman or he will make her a host." Asclepius spoke in a matter-of-fact way that renewed all the anger the colonel had been holding at bay.

"Over my dead body!"

The tall Jaffa with gentle eyes regarded this fiery man before him with fascination. A faint smile touched his lips and his eyes lit up, "You Tau'ri, to the last one of you, are the most defiant creatures I have ever encountered." There was mirth and a touch of respect coloring his words.

That quickly brought Jack up short. The two soldiers locked eyes, considering one another. Jack's mind worked quickly. Though he often feigned simplemindedness, in this moment he made no pretense about picking up on Asclepius' meaning.

"She never buckled."

The Jaffa cocked his head slightly in confusion, "Buckled?"

Daniel jumped in, sensing their need for a translator, "She never gave Chiron what he wanted."

"She did not. " He paused then elaborated, "From the first time I entered this cell with him the one thing he wanted from her was her name." Then he added quietly, "None of us knows it."

Jack felt his chest swell imperceptibly. She was a soldier, after all. He turned and looked at her, sorrow and pride warring for dominance.

Daniel's voice cut through the intensity of the moment, "What did you say your name was, again?" He had the look he got when serious revelations were lining up in his thoughts.

"Asclepius," he answered.

Daniel took a quick breath, held it for a moment as though to focus himself then declared, "You're the healer!" with a great exhalation.

"Daniel?" Jack wasn't pretending this time: he genuinely didn't follow.

Daniel's hands were moving even before his exposition could start filling up the chamber, echoing off walls, and invariably filling them in on his latest Aha! moment. He turned to meet Jack's questioning gaze with not-just-a-little excitement lighting his eyes. "They're living the myths of ancient Greece. Chiron or Kheiron, as it is in Greek, was the son of Cronus and Zeus' half brother. Oddly enough, he was thought to be the wisest and eldest of the centaurs."

"Centaurs…" Sam was digging through years of astrophysics and all manner of knowledge flotsam trying to find where she had stored what she'd learned of Greek mythology.

Jack interrupted her searching, "Half man, half horse. Total bad boys."

Daniel's eyebrows shot up at the fact that Jack had just informed Sam on, well, _anything_, not to mention the fact that he'd been completely correct.

"Actually, Chiron was supposed to have been different from most centaurs," Daniel's hands continued punctuating his explanation and his clear blue eyes grew ever brighter. "That classroom, art room, whatever we were in before…Chiron…he was an artist and scholar. Legend has it he was Achilles' mentor. He must be attempting to mentor those living here in his own twisted way."

Asclepius observed this exchange with curiosity. It was quiet true that Chiron was a great lover of art and science. He had been chastised by Cronus for bringing scientists to this world to research the possibility of new technologies made from the rich naquadah deposits found here. Cronus had only recently destroyed the scientists and their work when he discovered the people of Dashou had been growing technologically, as well. As punishment he had taken Chiron's Hatak and his sarcophagus.

"What did you mean by your remark that I am the healer?" Asclepius asked.

"Another of the men Chiron was thought to have mentored was Asclepius. He was the father of six children, including a daughter named Panacea, which means 'universal remedy' and his symbol was a staff and snake, which is the basis for our symbol of medical arts. On our world these are all things having to do with healing. He was also thought to have mentored Hippocrates, who is the father of our modern medicine. Our physicians still swear an oath that was first written by Hippocrates many, many years ago."

"Are you saying that you believe I come from the world of the Tau'ri?" His voice sounded incredulous.

"No, but the Goa'uld System Lords have all adopted the gods of the ancient cultures of Earth…our world," Daniel explained. "They took people from Earth and scattered them across the galaxy and presented themselves as the gods they already knew from their individual cultures."

Teal'c stepped forward into the light and continued for Daniel, "They have used their technology, claiming it to be the magic of the gods, to enslave thousands of worlds. I witnessed it repeatedly when I was the First Prime of Apophis."

At that revelation, Asclepius stretched his frame standing several inches taller. He had clearly heard something of Teal'c's story. "Of course! You are the Sholva, Teal'c!"

"I am," Teal'c's customary nod, a physical equivalent to 'aloha'.

"My Jaffa have heard great tales of your deeds. And we have also heard of your companions," he lifted his chin to meet the rest of their eyes meaningfully. He pointed a finger at Sam, "You are the woman called Carter?" She nodded dispassionately. He then pointed at Jack, "You are the one they call O'Neill."

Jack grinned pleasantly at him and added, "Two Ls," holding up two fingers.

Asclepius then gestured to Daniel, "And you are Dr. Daniel Jackson?"

Daniel said, "Yes, and you are named for one of the greatest ancient healers of our world," Daniel submitted in summation.

Asclepius considered all the strange and shocking revelations before him. His entire life had been directed and sculpted by Chiron. Everything he had learned at the tutelage of his god (_former_ god, he thought to himself) had been stolen from the ancient stories of the people standing before him. His mind spun with questions and confusion. Was he merely a puppet to continue keeping the storyline consistent? Had his entire life been some device used by Chiron to make the people believe that their myths were true?

Jack saw the distant gaze on Asclepius' face and decided he could ponder the meaning of his life later, "Look, we need our stuff. And we need to get her," he jerked a thumb toward Shaboni's figure, "out of here."

Asclepius switched gears instantly, considering his options. "If I attempt to free you now we will all be discovered and none of you will escape. Your only hope to remain alive is to allow me to imprison you until Chiron is sufficiently occupied with some task that distracts him. Then I may be able to free you," he paused then added decidedly, "and myself."

Teal'c questioned, "Are there those among your Jaffa who will follow you into freedom?"

Asclepius' brow creased as he considered the possibility, "I believe there are two."

"Two?" Jack was clearly disappointed.

Understanding all-too-well the gravity of the stakes Teal'c interrupted, "Do not discuss with them your plans unless you are certain they will support you." He knew from experience that if their allegiance wavered or shifted back to the Goa'uld once again they would put the entire team and it's mission in great danger.

Asclepius nodded his understanding. "I must return to Chiron. I have no alternative but to leave guards posted at the entrance to this chamber. If you attempt to escape they will kill you," he warned. "But I shall send someone with food and water."

"Our stuff?" Jack reminded him.

"I will procure it and return it to you as soon as it is safe to do so." With that last promise, Asclepius, former First Prime of Chiron, strode from their presence calmly.

Jack watched him leave and when the echo of the heavy door to the chamber died away he whistled lowly, "Wow."

"Yeah, wow," Daniel agreed.

"Cassic," Jack called the woman who had folded herself seamlessly into the shadows.

"I am here," she stepped forward just far enough that they could see her shape in the lengthening dark.

"Stay hidden for now. I don't want to risk you getting locked up. When we have a little more information we'll figure out a way to get you home."

"Could not Asclepius aid us in sneaking her out of the palace?" Teal'c suggested.

"I'm not ready to show him everything in our hand."

Teal'c considered his reply for a moment, then realized that it was a poker reference. He lifted a distinctly self-satisfied eyebrow at the fact that he had fully understood.

Jack returned to Shaboni's side and sat leaning against the gaudy raised platform where she'd been tortured. He contemplatively watched her still figure, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest the only indication she was alive. Her hands were curved restfully in her lap like a child's. The evidence of her exotic beauty still shone beneath the bruises and grime that seemed to cover every inch of her. All the relief he'd felt the moment they'd found her was gone. With each breath she took it seemed a blazing fury tied another knot in the rope of his gut. Without warning he was on his feet and pacing like the caged predator he was.

Sam eyed him from her own uncomfortable spot next to the unconscious woman. She had accepted from the beginning that her friend and CO had feelings for Shaboni. It had been obvious when they had gone on a mission to save her from the NID. She had seen in him then the same fierce determination he always had when he was tracking down one of his missing team members. She had been missing, herself, a time or two. He had never let it show once confirmation of her safety had been ascertained, but she had seen the warrior hunter in him more times than she cared to count. When he'd been missing himself, only a few short months ago, knowing that he would never give up if it were she kept her focused. It kept her going until they had him home at last. What she hadn't expected was that he'd already given up on his life, settling instead for the simple things Laira had to offer him on Edora. That time, his feelings for another woman had caught her more than a little off guard. But when they had him back he seemed to quickly let go of Laira and the life he'd begun to build with her. It had happened so suddenly she believed what she thought she witnessed when he said goodbye to Laira had been her overreacting.

Now she thought that maybe he'd had something more to come back to Earth for than just the SGC…and his friends.

Sam went through a common mental exercise she'd designed for herself when thoughts like these reared their head. All the regulations, all the complications, all the _right_ words became like a mantra she used to shove aside the conflict that warred within her. He was her friend, and more than that he was her commanding officer. If he wanted to feel something…for someone…besides all the hell he'd known in his life the last thing she would do is muck it up with her own internal drama. Swallowing against the discomfort that had settled in the pit of her stomach she reminded herself that there were just some things she couldn't change.

They watched as Jack slowly lumbered back and forth in the small cell. His shoulders were hunched, eyes bright with anger, giving him the distinct air of some kind of hulking grey wolf. They all assumed his anger came from seeing his friend in such a shattered state.

They were all wrong.


	9. Chapter 9

Several hours later, the door to the chamber opened and a tall, thin hooded figure carrying a bucket and a small leather pouch shuffled to the cell's door. The heavy chamber door closed behind him and keys clanged against the iron bars. The cage was opened and the stooped figure entered their enclosure. He set his burden on the table, seemingly unaware that all eyes were on him. Then he straightened and removed his hood.

For a moment no one spoke, as he looked from one expectant face to the next. Finally, Daniel tired of the strained silence, "Hello."

The young man in their presence smiled as shyly as Daniel Jackson ever had and inclined his head respectfully, "Greetings." He held out the pouch to Daniel, who raised his eyebrows questioningly. "It is food. And this," he pointed at the bucket, "is water. I promise it is safe for you to consume." Daniel took the bag.

A sudden gasp turned all five heads towards the door of the chamber. The sound of slow, deliberate footsteps filled the room. The smoky light cutting across the floor became the legs of a woman, then her torso, and at last Cassic came fully into view; her eyes wide and round, her hand pressed to her lips as if trying to hold back sound. She stared at him, transfixed.

One whispered word slipped into the air around them and answered every question. "Cassic," the young man gasped.

The breathy sound of her name seemed to reach out and break her trance. The fingers that weren't pressed against her mouth reached out and touched the bars of the cell. Nathan reached out a tentative hand and circled his fingers around the bars and intertwined his fingers with hers. After a long moment she jerked her hand away and tore through the open cell door, throwing her arms around him with abandon. He encircled her frame with his own strong arms and held her, whispering her name into her hair. Then, as suddenly as the moment of excitement had started, it ended as Nathan reached back and pried her insistent arms from around him. He pushed her away from him and stared at her with a combination of fear and joy twisting his face.

"Why have you returned here?! I warned you that you must _never_ return!" His words weren't meant to injure, but she stepped back as if he'd stung her.

The hurt in her eyes was unmistakable, but she fought the emotional vulnerability that had ripped into her unexpectedly, setting her mind to the situation at hand. "I brought them here." She pointed at Jack who had stood. "This woman is their friend." Then she turned to face Jack, "Colonel Jack O'Neill, this is Nathan. My husband."

"Pleased to meet you, Nathan. This is Major Carter, Teal'c and Daniel." He pointed to each of the remaining members of his team. Shaboni continued to sleep soundly with her back against the wall, blissfully unaware that her little cell was filling up with people very quickly.

Cassic turned back to Nathan and asked him, "Does Chiron know of our presence here?"

"He knows of theirs," Nathan indicated the members of SG-1. "I cannot linger. I am certain he will be coming here very shortly. I will leave the water for now and return for it later." He turned to Cassic, "He does _not_ know of _your_ presence here. You _must_ remain hidden. If Chiron learns that you are here…" His voice broke with emotion at the words he dared not speak.

"I will conceal myself until you return." She turned, her face set like stone, and walked back to her dark corner giving nothing away.

Nathan closed and locked the cell door. "I promise I will return."

Daniel distributed the stale bread that was contained in the leather pouch, saving some for Shaboni. He started to scoop water out of the container with the small metal cup provided when Jack jumped and put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Wait."

Jack reached inside the breast pocket of his field jacket and pulled out a crinkled cellophane package. He unrolled it noisily and tore off a corner then poured two of the small white tablets in the bag into his hand. He dropped the chlorine tabs into the water to purify it.

"I don't see any facilities, so unless you want it to get very messy in here very quickly I'd give that a few minutes to do its trick," he pointed at the water.

Daniel reached in with the cup and swirled the water to distribute the chlorine. Watching the water swirl in the bucket his mind set to thinking again about all the young men living in the palace.

"Jack, I think I know why Chiron has been taking the boys from Dashou," he offered tentatively.

"Well, by all means, do tell." Jack sounded cranky. Daniel figured that what he was about to tell him wouldn't improve his mood.

"Eromenos," Daniel offered by way of an explanation.

Jack waited a moment then pressed, "Are you aware you've started speaking one of your _other_ languages?"

Daniel ignored the remark, "It's a kind of mentorship said to have been very common in ancient Greece. A man would take a young boy and bring him into his home," Daniel paused, searching for the best words, "…into his, well, his bed. Once he got older he would leave and have a regular family of his own, but for his formative years he would be the lover of an older man. They were called eromenos."

The rest of them gaped at Daniel with horrified faces.

Sam was the first to speak, "So, what? You think he keeps these boys as some kind of harem?"

"I don't know for certain, but he's copied everything else about the life of the ancient Greeks, right down to mentoring Asclepius."

From the darkened corner where she hid Cassic's voice betrayed the horror they all felt, "Are you saying that Nathan stayed here…when he said he _belonged_ to Chiron…it was because he was…" She couldn't bring herself to actually speak the words.

No one could answer her. Each one of them frozen in place; afraid to move, afraid to speak. They all felt the wave of pain emanating from Cassic's dark cover.

The sound of shifting fabric pulled their attention to the corner of the cell. Jack returned to Shaboni's side. She had pushed herself off the wall and was pulling at the edge of the blanket, trying to cover her legs.

"Hey there," he said.

She stopped and turned her head, facing him full on with fever-bright eyes. Everything was quiet again, but her head hurt fiercely.

"I know you," she croaked hoarsely.

Jack sat back on his heels, her words taking him by surprise. How could she not know who they were? She should know them all, and know them well.

"Yes, you do."

She took a deep breath and abruptly started coughing. Jack winced at the sound, reminded once again of how her lungs had sounded when they'd first met her. Daniel, Sam and Teal'c also gathered around her. When the grasp of the paroxysm released her she closed her eyes and breathed shallow breaths against the burning pain in her chest. When she opened her eyes again she looked from one worried expression to the next. She knew the faces before her, but her thoughts were still a confused jumble. She reached for some thing, some piece of information that would connect the feelings she felt to some cohesive thought, but again it all seemed just beyond her grasp; comprehension curving away at the last moment.

Daniel decided he'd give it a try, "Shaboni, don't you remember us?"

She made a confused face, "Shaboni?"

Daniel and Jack exchanged shocked expressions.

Jack tried to fill in the blank for her, "_You_ are Shaboni, okay? Shaboni is you."

A fiery panic seized her, and somehow she knew that what he was telling her was very, very dangerous. She reached up and put her hands over her ears like a child trying not to hear something. She squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head, trying to will away his words. She thought that knowing this word, Shaboni, was the most horrible thing she could know, but she didn't know why. Then it all started coming back to her: her fevered mind working hard to rebuild itself. It came like the scattered pieces of a jigsaw puzzle no one had put together, but the pieces were there just the same. This word, Shaboni…her name…it was a corner piece.

Jack reached up and firmly, but insistently, pulled her hands away from her head. She opened her eyes to find his face mere inches away. Brown eyes reaching out to gray, searching for a hint of recognition there. He held her wrists as gently as he could, trying not to awaken the pain of the cuts and bruises there. He searched the storms of her eyes for any sign that she was still in there. In the low light of the room he hunted those eyes for hope, begging with one silent prayer repeated over and over, "Please."

There was a beat…a momentary flash, and he could feel her arms tense in his. He almost let go, fearing he was hurting her, but her eyes spoke of something else. The next few pieces of the puzzle slid into place, locking with the first easily.

"Jack," she whispered.

He let her arms go and leaned back on his haunches again, "Yes…Jack."

Suddenly all the pieces of the puzzle snapped together.

In a blur of motion Jack simultaneously felt an explosion of pain in his face and saw the dazzling light of it as Shaboni came off the ground and punched him forcefully in the nose. Her momentum pushed him over and he landed with a hard 'thud' on his back. She was on his chest, pinning his shoulders with her knees and punching him in the face before anyone could act. In the next moment, Teal'c and Daniel were hauling the furious, flailing Israeli off their CO.

"OW!" He reached up and held his nose, checking for blood. Sure enough, she'd broken his nose…again. His whole face was singing to the pulsating beat of his heart. The throbbing made it hard to think clearly, but as soon as he could form words he cried, "What the hell was _that_ for?!!"

Shaboni was still struggling against Teal'c and Daniel's restraining hands, but was quickly losing strength as the adrenalin surge that had fueled her attack began to ebb. She stopped pulling against them and screamed her fury at Jack.

"You_ lied_!"

"Lied?! What did I lie about?" And suddenly it came back to him: Mayborne had told her that he'd lied about her husband being dead. "Oh, yeah."

"You told me Emil is dead!" She jerked one last time against the two strong men holding her off the ground by her arms.

"Now wait just a minute!" Jack picked himself up off the floor and stood in front of her. "I did no such thing."

All the jumping, hitting, and struggling turned out to be a very bad idea. Suddenly all her strength was gone and her body sagged in Teal'c and Daniel's arms. Her weight was thrust onto the soles of her feet and she sucked in a sharp gasp at the pain. Teal'c and Daniel instinctively reached around her to support her weight fully then they lowered her gently to the floor. Teal'c moved to stand within reach of her in the event she decided to launch herself at O'Neill again. Daniel tried to assist her in finding a comfortable position, but she glared up at him and forced his hand away. She leaned forward on her hands and knees, breath coming in shallow gasps. Jack hunched back down cautiously.

"Are you okay?" It was a stupid question, but it was the only way he could think of to ask.

She lifted her head, hair hanging in front of her face. She blew a puff of air to push it away from her mouth.

"I am not."

Jack could see her arms were quivering from the strain of holding her weight. He sprang forward just as they started to give and grabbed her shoulders. He quickly twisted and scooted under her, cradling her torso gently as he lowered her to his lap. She lay there quaking and shuddering like a body submerged in ice water. Jack could feel the intense heat of her fever through his clothes, her abused frame feeling too light. He reached down and gingerly pulled her hair away from her eyes so he could meet them. Her brow was contorted in confusion and pain.

He spoke gently to her, "I didn't lie to you. Mayborne did." He paused before he added, "Shaboni, Mayborne is NID. He worked for the same people that killed your husband."

'_And nearly killed you,' _he didn't add. The image of her laying stripped to her underwear on a cold metal table, sputtering blood and turning blue worked its way free of its locked box.

She closed her eyes for several long moments, then, at last, nodded once. She knew it was true, and she thought she probably had known it all along. Her instincts had insisted that Jack hadn't lied to her, but she wanted so desperately for there to be _hope_. Colonel Mayborne had known the one thing that would drive her to join his team. He had exploited her weakness. But now she knew the truth: Jack had never lied to her. She believed him, and they needn't speak of it further.

Jack leaned down and wiped the dripping blood from his nose with the sleeve of his jacket, trying not to get any on her.

"There is a cloth," she lifted a shaky arm pointing at the pile of straw next to them, "in there."

"I'll get it," Sam got down on hands and knees next to them and dug the dirty cloth from the straw. It had long since dried. She brushed off as much of the detritus as she could then handed it to the colonel. He leaned his head back and used the cloth to apply pressure to his oh-so-tender nose.

"How touching!" The deep, booming voice of Chiron filled their chamber, snapping all heads his direction. Jack felt Shaboni flinch at the sound. He clenched his teeth, and his shoulders tightened with rage.

"So the Tau'ri have finally come to rescue you," he crooned. Asclepius and several of his Jaffa entered behind him. Asclepius moved forward to unlock their cage. The rest trained weapons on the captives, warning them to remain still with deadly intent in their eyes. "And now I have all of you!" Shaboni couldn't see him from her position in Jack's lap, but she thought he sounded quite giddy.

Chiron nodded to his First Prime who entered the cell, withdrawing bindings from his belt. He approached Teal'c first, looking the large Jaffa in the eyes severely. Reading his intent, Teal'c backed against the bars of the cell where Asclepius bound his hands. He locked Daniel into place a few feet from Teal'c, then Sam.

Jack sat, unmoving, cradling Shaboni with one arm and holding the cloth to his nose with the other. Sensing that he was not going to move without more encouragement, a second Jaffa entered the cell and pointed the business end of a staff weapon at his head. Reluctantly, Jack pushed Shaboni off his lap and stood.

"Lay the woman on the table," Chiron instructed.

Asclepius reached to pick her up and Jack sidestepped into his path, blocking him. The second Jaffa swung the back end of his staff weapon around and clocked the colonel in the side of the head, knocking him senseless to the dirty floor. He dropped the cloth and the sudden forceful movement started his nose bleeding again. He rolled mindlessly to his back, causing a sudden fountain of blood to flow down his throat. A sputtering cough brought him back to his side, groaning and spraying blood.

Asclepius again bent and tried to gather Shaboni into his arms, but this time she struggled. She pushed at him with failing strength, kicking her bare feet against the table for leverage. Again, the pressure against the soles of her feet caused a flash of pain that ground her teeth together. Asclepius hesitated, not wanting to hurt her further.

"What is the delay? I said 'Lay the woman on the table'!" Chiron's distorted voice rose in pitch.

Asclepius reached for Shaboni one last time and quickly plucked her off the floor. He set her on the table as gently as he could then fastened her hands and feet.

"Now him," Chiron pointed at Jack, who was still rolled on his side fighting for consciousness.

Asclepius reached down and grabbed one of the colonel's arms and quickly dragged him to the little makeshift bed. The jerking movement brought dizzying spirals of light to his vision and he moaned. Once his hands were fastened to the bars of the cage, Asclepius bound the prone man's feet together. Jack lay there lost in the buzzing space between consciousness and the quiet dark. Finally, the two Jaffa retreated from the cell and Chiron entered, setting a couple of torches high on the stone wall.

When the light brightened the room Chiron noticed the glint of Teal'c's crest for the first time. He appraised it curiously, and his face lit up in recognition. "You were the first prime to Apophis! The Sholva we have all heard so much about!" he squealed with delight. "Are you aware of how much my father despises Apophis? Perhaps the two of you have something in common, if that is possible for a god and a slave."

Teal'c's face hardened into stone as he stared straight ahead, refusing to answer.

"If you are the Sholva, then these must be the most famous SG-1." Chiron stepped in front of Daniel. Unlike Teal'c, Daniel met his eyes with a passionate hatred burning in his own. He stared defiantly into icy blue eyes, and Chiron's eyes flashed with lascivious glee. "You are indeed a spectacular specimen." He raised a hand outfitted with a ribbon device to Daniel's face and activated it. Daniel gasped and strained at his bindings, then his face went slack and he slid down the bars to his knees.

Sam screamed at Chiron, "STOP IT!" The ribbon device shut off and Daniel fell as far forward as his bindings would allow, the awkward position pulling at his shoulders dangerously.

Chiron turned to Sam, sneering, "Oh, I am not going to take his life." The hidden intent was all too clear to them after Daniel had explained the presence of the eromenos. He may be older than most of the palace boys, but he still _looked_ young enough. Chiron stepped to Sam and grabbed her chin with his ungloved hand. "Nor do I wish to take yours." The slithery smile that warped his strange mouth upwards sickened her as much as his hand on her face.

"This is much better!" He smiled with true joy. He approached the table where Shaboni lay shivering violently, feverish chills working their way up and down her body. "I presume you have had enough time for your companions to remind you of your name." Clearly their game was back on, and he was relishing his next play.

Shaboni felt the familiar steel of her will slip into place with practiced ease. She knew that it was folly; that this evil being toying with her would eventually either kill her or make her a host. Still, there was nothing she could do. Her name was not something she would allow him to possess. A sudden intense sadness washed over her as she realized that Jack and SG-1 were not only too late to save her, but they would now suffer as well. Her mind returned to the day she was abducted: her gun pointing directly at Chiron's head. She could have double-tapped him easily before anyone could have stopped her. His Jaffa would have killed her instantly, but at least no one else would be suffering for her mistake. Then she remembered the women of Dashou dancing with their missing in the square and how she feared if she fired they would be killed.

SG-1 had come to Dashou looking for her. Chiron had come to Dashou looking for her. And she had come to Dashou looking for Emil. All the suffering that surrounded her now emanating from Colonel Mayborne's lie. A white-hot anger seized her and she realized that were it not for his lie, none of them would be Chiron's prisoner. All the hope, the _false_ hope she'd had that she might see her husband again was the product of his great lie. Shaboni felt her jaw set as a new thought occurred to her:

If she survived this, she was going to kill Colonel Harry Mayborne. Slowly.

Chiron observed his captive as her face shone with each emotion that filled her. First he'd seen one of the few glimmers of fear she'd allowed to surface waft across her features, then her eyes had taken on that hardness that she forced into place so as not to betray her fear. Then he'd seen something dark and haunted for just a brief moment, then the fiercest emotion of all: anger. He thought he quite liked watching her face dance. The power a god had to call forth such feeling from a mere mortal! It was exquisitely satisfying that he'd been able to bring her to the brink of oblivion and then her companions had arrived, snatching her back from that edge just in time. Now he would get to take her away from herself all over again! It was like a gift, only this time he didn't have to take his time. She was no longer the most interesting thing he possessed. His mind wandered momentarily to the young man unconscious across the cell.

Then, without hesitating another moment, Chiron removed the ribbon device from his hand and hung it over his belt.

"It is so relieving to see that your mind has not failed you after all," he breathed as he gently caressed her cheek. "Do you see now that your god has the power to hold not only your life, but your very soul in his hand?" He held up his hand in front of her face and slowly contracted it into a meaty fist. "They cannot save you. They cannot even save themselves." The fist was swiftly drawn backhanded across her face, crushing the back of her head against stone. Bending low to crouch over her, he placed his thick hand at her neck menacingly and asked, "Now, are you ready to tell me your name?"

Shaboni thought the sound of his voice was too sharp. The light from the torches made everything fuzzy around the edges. She thought her perceptions were wrong…seriously off. Colors were too bright, smells were too pungent. All the sense of danger she'd felt for so many weeks receded. She could hear Chiron asking for her name again, could feel the coolness of his hand at her throat. Somewhere in the furthest corner of her mind a voice screamed again that he was about to kill her, but she didn't care. Movement at her side caught her attention.

Jack was pushing himself off the floor, arms still bound to bars, ankles strapped together. He had managed to get his feet underneath him and had risen far enough that she could now see his face. In the warmth of the firelight she thought she saw his sweet, sweet smile, but that couldn't be. Not a smile. No…a grimace. He was suffering. Because of her. Their eyes locked and she tried to tell him goodbye there. She wanted to thank him for trying to save her. She wanted to tell him all kinds of things and feel his strong rough hands in her own one more time.

She was silent, once again. Chiron noticed the two drawing strength from one another and furiously clamped down on Shaboni's throat. She had defied him for the last time. Horrified, Jack jerked at his bindings, only managing to knock himself off balance. He fell to his knees. She jerked and spasmed for a few moments, then stilled. He could see the light in her eyes going…dying. There was no sound around them. It was as if they all were being strangled.

_No no no no not this…_ Jack's mind formed the words but for all his training and worlds of experience fighting these wretched creatures he could not make his mouth work. No snide remark could force back the excruciating truth before him: he'd found her and now he was going to have to watch her die…again.

The silent murder seemed to go on forever, but suddenly Chiron withdrew his hand from Shaboni's neck. Her eyes were still open, staring the half-lidded stare of death in Jack's direction. Her cheeks were creamy white and her lips a darkening bluish color. Sam had looked away, staring at the floor so she wouldn't have to see the tortured look on the colonel's face as he watched this woman he so obviously cared for die. She thanked God silently that Daniel seemed to be unconscious. Teal'c remained stoically silent, observing the horrors before them with a passive face, but Sam had seen the deadly look in his eyes, the dance of his jaw muscles as he ground his teeth together.

Suddenly Asclepius sprang forward, "My lord, if you would permit me, I could revive the Tau'ri woman. You might still have your way with her." Jack's head turned involuntarily to stare at him, not wanting to dare to hope. Each second that ticked away took her life further and further from the possibility of salvation.

Chiron looked at Shaboni thoughtfully, the he turned on his heels and consented, "You may revive her." He left the cell and then the chamber without a glance backward at the tragic scene he left in his wake.

All of the Jaffa guard followed him, except Asclepius, who bound into the cell and began resuscitating Shaboni. He breathed for her and then started chest compressions. Sam thought it was odd how CPR could be so similar on alien worlds, but then she reasoned that it made perfect sense because their physiology was all the same. She watched Asclepius' technique with detached fascination; not realizing her analytical wonderment was merely a coping mechanism.

As Asclepius worked to revive Shaboni, Jack found his mind had returned to the silent one-word prayer it'd been stuck on earlier like a skipping record. His body tensed with each compression, and his lungs breathed with each breath as if he could save her with some kind of telepathic CPR. It felt like it was taking too long. Impossibly long…a voice in his head started telling him it wasn't going to work; that she was gone.

And a cough ripped from her. It was the sweetest cough Jack had ever heard.

Her whole body convulsed as she tried to draw air against the overwhelming need to clear her airway; the incompatible needs twisting her into a violent fit. Asclepius quickly unlocked her hands so that she could lower them, which relaxed the muscles around her lungs enough that she could get several good breaths.

The bright rose of fever returned instantly to her cheeks and the blue tinge of her lips receded. Jack stood with his arms still fastened to the bars of their cell, taking deep breaths with her, still locked in panic-stricken telepathic rhythm. At long last her eyes focused on him.

"You with us?" He asked breathlessly, unable to contain the fear in his voice.

She nodded and smiled at him weakly. Asclepius unfastened her ankles and then carried her to the blanket lying crumpled on the straw.

"You must try to rest. I will bring you more of the herbs I gave you earlier. They still may yet break your fever." He then released Jack from his bindings. "Please understand I had no choice."

Jack was tempted to argue, but the image of Asclepius breathing for Shaboni when he'd been so certain she was lost to them shut him up.

"We have to get out of here. I don't think she has any more lives left." Jack reached down and pulled Shaboni's head and shoulders into his lap once again. He totally missed the puzzled look on Asclepius' face. Suddenly Jack noticed Daniel's slack, still figure for the first time. "Daniel?"

Sam explained, "Chiron has a ribbon device, sir." When he gaped at her, horrified, she added, "He's not dead, just unconscious."

"I believe Chiron intends to make Daniel Jackson one of his eromenos," Teal'c supplied quietly.

"Not. Gonna. Happen." Jack declared. He turned back to Asclepius, who was freeing the rest of his team, "So, are you gonna get us out of here or what?"

"I will try to procure your weapons tonight. If Chiron keeps to his schedule I should be able to aid your escape in the early hours tomorrow. He usually spends that time with his students." Asclepius released Daniel and lowered him gently to the floor. Then he returned to Shaboni and bent down and put a hand to her wrist, feeling her pulse. "She is still quite weak. It is quite far through the forest to either Dashou or the Chappa'ai. Will you be able to assist her?"

Shaboni surprised him, "She will be making it just fine without assistance."

They both smiled at the feisty determination in her voice. Not even death could contain her defiant will.

Asclepius looked Jack in the eyes sincerely, "I may not be able to return tonight, but I believe there is one who can bring you the things your require. I will attempt to send the medicine for her, as well."

Jack reached out and grabbed Asclepius' forearm, a Jaffa greeting he'd witnessed Teal'c and Bra'Tac share countless times.

"Thank you."

Asclepius gripped his arm in silent reply, then left the group of travelers alone.


	10. Chapter 10

When they were alone again, Cassic rushed to the bars nearest Jack and Shaboni. "Are you injured?" her voice worried.

"It's just a scratch," Jack replied leaning his pounding head against the bars.

"What can I do? How can I help you?" Too many hours pressed into the corner of the chamber, hiding and holding perfectly still, had pushed her to near panic. Observing Chiron from her little spot had been excruciating for her. All the memories of her time as his prisoner assaulted her at once, flooding her with every sensation she'd experienced at his hands. She desperately needed something to do. Jack realized that if they didn't find a way to get her out of there soon, she was going to lose it.

He thought about it for a moment then asked her, "If we can get you out of this chamber do you think you can find your way out of the palace and back to Dashou?"

She looked back and forth from him to the door, clearly worried that the Jaffa outside would discover her. Finally she swallowed against the rising tide of fear and nodded. Jack realized they should have tried to get her out before she had witnessed Chiron's little visit. He sighed heavily, weariness settling in.

"We're going to do our best to get all the Jaffa out there to come in here. But when they do, you're going to have to move out _quickly_…and quietly."

She nodded furiously again. Jack looked up to Teal'c standing in the opposite corner of the cell. He moved forward to stand nearer the petrified woman.

"Cassic of Dashou," he began in full baritone. "You have survived imprisonment by the Goa'uld previously, have you not?"

She nodded again, her eyes wide with fear.

"You escaped your cell and, indeed, this palace."

This time she only nodded once, slowly.

"You returned to your home and gave birth to a daughter, who you then raised, along with your son, without the assistance of their father."

The panic etched on her face began to fade; her eyes softening as the power of Teal'c's words began to feed her courage.

He inclined his head and his eyes softened as he brought it home, "The task that is set before you now is no more daunting than that which you have already accomplished."

Jack grinned a broad grin at his giant friend, "Nicely done! Now, Carter, you and Teal'c are going to get those guards in here. My head is feeling like the loosing egg in an egg toss, so it's gotta be you."

"What'd you have in mind, sir?"

"I dunno…start a fight?"

Sam thought about this for a minute, grinned a devilish little grin then asked, "Can I win?"

Teal'c straightened up to his fullest intimidating height and responded, "Most certainly not!"

Sam indicated to Cassic that she should conceal herself once more, then she bopped Teal'c playfully on the arm, "C'mon."

The sound of yelling and the distinct smack of fists on skin brought the two guards from outside the door. They exchanged confused looks when the small blond woman threw a particularly forceful kick, knocking the towering Jaffa backwards into the wall. He staggered forward and grappled with her, sliding her feet backwards. The guards lowered their staff weapons and ordered the two of them to cease fighting. With all their attention focused on the strange brawl in the cell, they utterly failed to notice Cassic's escape.

* * *

Night came and stole all the warmth from the cell. Jack held Shaboni in his lap, her feverish shudders warming him where she lay. Sam and Teal'c had taken spots on the floor at either side of a stubbornly unconscious Daniel. Jack watched as Sam repeatedly reached to his neck to reassure herself that he was, in fact, still alive. No one spoke as the hours began to stretch out.

Long after the torchlight had burned down to a bare flicker Nathan came bumbling through the chamber's doors with his cloak pulled around him. He stumbled into the cell and dumped something on the floor next to Sam. She grabbed it and dug through what appeared to be the colonel's pack. She inventoried the items stashed inside, " We've got our side arms, ammunition, a 'Zat, two knives, some C4, and two Claymores."

"Thank you," she beamed at Nathan. She stashed them under the straw bed.

Nathan turned his attention to Shaboni and Jack. He filled the cup with water then emptied a pouch full of herbs into it. He handed it to Jack explaining, "Asclepius informs me this is much stronger than what he gave her earlier. He believes it will calm her fever, but it will also force her to sleep much longer." He pulled another pouch from beneath his cloak and set it next to Jack, "You must give her this as soon as the sun returns. It will awaken her. Place it beneath her tongue."

He looked to the corner where Cassic had been hiding earlier, searching for some sign of her. Jack realized what he was looking for.

"She's gone. We had to get her out of here."

Nathan's shoulders slumped slightly at this news. He sighed and looked back to the colonel, "I did not believe I would ever see her again. The fact that I was able to hold her once more..." his voice caught. "It was more than I could have hoped for."

"Why didn't you try to escape with her the first time?" Jack wondered.

Nathan's face contorted in sadness, "I had no choice. It was the only way."

"Only way to what?"

"To protect her and the child." Jack thought the young man sounded impossibly old.

"You made a deal with Chiron," he declared, understanding.

Nathan nodded silently then elaborated, "I begged him to allow my wife to return to Dashou. He agreed that he would allow it only if I consented to stay with him…permanently. I will never enter the mines."

Jack had heard enough. He shook Shaboni's shoulders to rouse her from her fitful sleep and gave her the concoction Asclepius had sent. As she sipped at it, Nathan went to Daniel's side. He reached to turn the young man over and found that he was opening his eyes.

"You are feeling better?" Nathan asked. He hooked an arm under Daniel's and helped sit him up.

Daniel gripped his head with both hands, blobs of gray still bobbing in his vision. He managed a shaky, "I think so." Then he asked, "What happened?"

Jack supplied a quick overview, "Well, Shaboni died, then she got better. Teal'c and Carter had a fight. Cassic escaped. Nathan brought us some of our gear, and now we're waiting for sunup." He looked at Sam who was grinning at his description, "Did I miss anything?"

"No, sir, that pretty much sums it up."

Daniel adjusted his glasses and replied, "So, business as usual."

"Yep."

* * *

Sometime in the stillness of the early morning hours everyone but Teal'c had fallen asleep. The sound of keys and the whine of corroded metal startled the rest of SG1 awake. Sunlight was filtering into the cell, warming everything. Jack jumped when he realized he'd slept through the hour he was supposed to give Shaboni the herbs that were going to awaken her.

Asclepius was carrying two staff weapons, their MP5s, and their remaining gear. He dropped them on the table.

"You have not administered the stimulant I provided," he chastised.

"We'll do it now," Jack dug the small oblong bundle, about the size of an almond, out of the pouch next to him.

"Now is too late. It will require more time to work than we can spare. If we do not leave now we will be discovered."

Jack thrust the brown bundle under Shaboni's tongue and put a hand under her chin to help keep it in place. Daniel sorted through their belongings and distributed them quickly. He located their GDO and strapped it to his wrist.

"Teal'c," Jack asked in shorthand for Teal'c to carry Shaboni. It would be far more difficult making their way out of the palace with her sleeping, but Jack didn't think she could walk anyway. In the pale light of morning her bare feet looked even more mottled than they had the afternoon before; dark purple, black and blue streaks spreading from the soles all the way around to her ankles. Teal'c scooped Shaboni off Jack's lap and sat her on the table, then leaned down and put his shoulder to her middle, pulling her across his back in a fireman's carry.

They fastened vests, holstered side arms, sheathed knives, and followed their new ally from the dank little cell. Stepping lightly into the maze of corridors, Asclepius led them through the quiet palace. They kept low and clung to the walls as they passed endless intersections. Jack and Asclepius made sure their path was clear as they headed further and further from the chamber where they'd been held, his route far more circuitous than Cassic's. They realized they were not heading for the passageway here they'd come in.

Hearing conversation coming from the direction he needed to go, Asclepius suddenly stopped and motioned for them to get back. They pressed tightly against the wall behind a blind corner. Asclepius slowly leaned forward far enough to get a glimpse of several Jaffa guards standing casually in the corridor. He leaned back and pointed to the others, indicating they should go back the way they came. They were making their way back down the corridor when Shaboni came forcefully and decidedly awake.

A cough reverberated down the hallway and she pushed hard at Teal'c's back, trying to relieve the pressure of his shoulder in her gut. Before she realized where she was or what was going on, a cry escaped her lips. Jack spun on his heels and put a hand over her mouth, quieting her. Everyone paused long enough to assure they were on the same page: the Jaffa were definitely alerted to their presence. The sound of their conversation stopped, and they could all hear their collective footsteps as they moved to inspect the source of the sound.

In the next moment they were running down the corridor as flashes of plasma streaked by them, striking stone and spraying it across their path. There were four Jaffa chasing them and making a huge racket about doing so. As they turned a corner, they took cover and prepared to fight it out. The first two Jaffa to round the corner never saw it coming. The staccato sound of automatic gunfire filled the air around them and the two Jaffa fell instantly. The remaining two took cover behind the corner and fired their staff weapons, covering Jack and Daniel with pulverized debris.

The two groups continued to exchange fire. Jack yelled over the din to Asclepius, "There's gonna be a lot more of 'em in a minute! Can we make it from here?"

Asclepius nodded in affirmation, then stepped out from behind his cover to get a better angle on their two friends. Following his lead, Jack waited until they were both aiming for Asclepius and then stepped out and together the two of them fired a battle-ending volley, killing the two Jaffa quickly.

Teal'c was struggling to keep Shaboni securely on his shoulders. He'd been holding his staff weapon with one hand and her with the other. She squirmed and jerked, trying to free herself from the painful position.

"Let me down," she demanded.

"You are unable to travel at the required speed," Teal'c denied.

"I will be fine. Let me down!"

Teal'c set her on her feet and the sudden sharp pain of it made her head swim. She fought the sensation that the world had been knocked on its side, grabbing Teal'c's arm to steady herself.

"I will carry you," Teal'c didn't think she would be able to walk at all, much less keep pace with them.

She clenched her jaw in determination and declared, "I…will…walk…"

"Let's GO!" Jack called.

Shaboni felt her heart beating hard and fast in her chest. The moment she had awakened she sensed a renewed strength and energy. They started moving again back the way they'd just come. Shaboni took two short steps, testing her feet and finding that the pain was receding. She knew then for certain she could keep up.

They made their way down the corridor where the previous Jaffa had been as quickly as possible. Asclepius led them around a corner, through a door, and suddenly they were in a vast open courtyard. There were columns along all four walls and a great fountain and pool in the center. The lush green vegetation of the forests sprang up in carefully manicured beds all around. Asclepius led them along the wall, behind the columns, towards a door to their left. They were within mere feet of the door when the door across the courtyard opened and again they found themselves under fire.

In the bright light of early day they could see the confused faces of the Jaffa as they realized they were firing on their own commander, and he was returning fire. The momentary hesitation was enough to give SG1 an opening. From around the sides of columns heavy fire mowed them down. As the door opened to deliver more Jaffa into the skirmish, they were able to make it out of the courtyard into the dark corridor beyond.

In the pause between firefights Shaboni demanded, "Gun!!" Daniel reached into his holster and grabbed his 'Zat. He tossed it to her and she caught it easily. They were jogging through the confusing maze of the palace. Shaboni had the sensation that somewhere beneath the rush of adrenalin and utter _need_ to make it out of the palace there was something more. She didn't quite feel herself. She felt bigger; stronger somehow. Practically invincible.

They made it around the next corner before the group of pursuing Jaffa started firing again. Asclepius quickened their pace. They were in the long corridor that led to the front entrance. Jack caught his eye, knowing there were guards outside the entrance. Asclepius nodded to him that he understood the man's question and silently communicated that he had taken care of the problem.

They burst through the high doors that led into the palace to find only two guards at the entrance. When they saw Asclepius they actually joined the group running from the palace. There was no time to ask questions or reassure themselves of their loyalty. They made for the tree line, running as fast as they could. They were almost there when they finally came under fire again.

As the ever-growing group disappeared into the thick forest, trees around them splintered and exploded. Asclepius led them down a well-worn path a short distance, then turned and headed into the thick undergrowth. They made their way as far as vines and trees and ferns would allow, then Asclepius hunkered down behind a massive fallen tree. The rest of them followed suit. They crouched there breathing heavily, trying not to shift or make a sound. The large group of Jaffa chasing them continued to head down the trail, in their haste failing to notice the signs left behind where they left the path.

Several minutes passed as they assured themselves that no others were coming. Then Asclepius turned to the rest and introduced their new companions.

"This is Aleo and Carus. They are my apprentices. When I told them all that I witnessed they pledged to follow me into freedom."

The two young Jaffa bowed their heads respectfully. Teal'c returned the gesture, his back straight, the corners of his lips smiling gently.

Asclepius continued, "They will guard the Chappa'ai. We cannot make our escape there yet." He eyed Shaboni nervously then added, "We will need to find shelter. While we," he indicated he, Aleo and Carus, "can withstand exposure on this world, I have seen many others succumb to its extremes quickly. The closet settlement is Dashou, but it is some distance from here."

They exchanged silent looks of understanding, all eyes falling at last on Shaboni. Sensing they all regarded her as the weak link, she straightened her spine and defiantly insisted, "I will make it."

"Come then," Asclepius stood up. "We must hurry."


	11. Chapter 11

The morning sun had turned the thriving forest into a sauna. SG-1 was still in their heavier field jackets, which were soaked through with sweat. Their canteens were empty and their camels had not been returned to them. The trudge through the forest was utterly miserable.

The only one besides the Jaffa that seemed to be having an easy go of it was Shaboni. She walked barefoot just behind Asclepius; clearly impatient with the pace he was setting. Jack eyed her suspiciously. There was no way this was mere grit. Whatever had been in that brown bundle Asclepius had given her had clearly been extremely powerful. He was reminded of a man he'd encountered one night that had been high on methamphetamine: feeling no pain, larger than life, and headed for a serious crash. He figured that whatever drug was in her system would eventually wear off. All he could do was hope they were somewhere relatively safe when it did.

After what seemed like hours of hiking they broke through the trees and found themselves approaching Dashou once again. This time there were no raucous children's voices, no greeting. In fact, there was no one in the streets at all.

Jack stopped them and turned to their three Jaffa allies, "Give Teal'c your weapons. They," he pointed at the houses, "don't know you've switched sides."

There was a long moment where the three of them gave this request some serious thought. It lasted just long enough for Jack's heart to speed up in anticipation. If they resisted this could get ugly quickly. Then, finally, they relented.

The group marched into the center of Dashou with the three weaponless Jaffa in the middle. Jack could see curious faces staring out windows. There was movement across the square and Cassic was suddenly standing outside her bar. She hesitated when she saw the Jaffa with them, but smiled warmly and came forward to greet them.

"You have escaped!"

"For now, but we need to hide. I doubt it'll be long before some of the palace guard shows up looking for us," the colonel replied. When she frowned at the two new Jaffa standing in their midst he explained, "These two are with us, too."

Knowing that Asclepius had helped them she nodded, "Of course, but first I must show you…" she turned and waved to the dark walkways between the buildings, beckoning someone forward.

A group of women marched confidently into the sunlight. Jack recognized some of them from their dancing, but there were many more he'd never seen. The square quickly began to fill up with women then a few of the children and old men followed them. Before long there were dozens of people standing there, looking nervously from one to another and back to the disheveled group in the middle.

"What's going on?" Jack asked nonchalantly.

"They have all agreed to fight."

SG-1 exchanged raised eyebrows. Teal'c stood a few inches taller as he filled with pride for Cassic. She had heeded his words, and then taken them to far greater lengths than anticipated.

"Well," Jack started, "this is…unexpected." He took off his hat and surveyed the large group. "Okay, folks," he spoke to the lot of them, "We don't have much time. If you have weapons, go get them. Then find a place to hide. Stay out of sight, and don't start fighting until you get the signal."

From somewhere in the throng a voice asked, "What is the signal?"

"You'll know it when you see it."

The group quickly dispersed. Jack searched their surroundings for a strategic position to set up. The perimeter of the town square was flanked on all sides by buildings, but there were multiple entrance points.

"Okay, Carter: Claymores and C4 at every access point. Make sure those civilians know to stay back. Daniel, you're with me. The rest of you fan out and cover each quadrant. Your best cover will be these buildings," he pointed at the buildings with darkened walkways. "On my go."

They started to disperse and he grabbed Shaboni's arm, "I want you inside."

"What?" she argued.

"Look, Asclepius gave you something…some kind of drug. It's the only way you could have made it this long…this _far_. I don't know when it will wear off. You need to seek shelter."

She shook her head furiously, "No. You need every person you have fighting. I will not be cowering inside while these women are to be fighting for their freedom!"

He knew he'd lost. He glowered at her then nodded.

They readied themselves for battle.

They didn't have to wait for long. Teal'c informed them over their radios that a large contingent of Jaffa had broken from the tree line and was heading straight for their positions. Jack knew that their success was ultimately in the hands of a bunch of civilians with crude guns and knives, but he'd seen bigger miracles worked time and again. The determination of oppressed people to gain their freedom had proven the true nature of the human spirit no matter what world they lived on.

Jack's senses heightened. The laser-sharp clarity of combat reigned. His mouth went dry as the Jaffa fanned out to enter the town center from all sides. They were definitely on.

They waited…watching…listening…hearts thrumming mightily, fingers on triggers, silent prayers for victory sent up.

And Colonel O'Neill fingered the talk button on his radio, "Carter, go."

The first explosion of C4 sent half a dozen Jaffa flying through the air. The corridors between buildings had forced them to group tightly to enter. This made the concussive devices doubly powerful as the blasts destroyed bodies and stone walls alike.

The same scenario was repeated four more times, as Carter triggered the Claymores and remaining C4. Then the firefight started. The Jaffa didn't merely march into the courtyard and stand in the center to be slaughtered; they sought cover, repeatedly discovering that the combatants had beaten them to it. Automatic weapons fire sang out in short, ringing bursts. Staff weapons lased all around.

There was a distant sound of many voices raised as the women of Dashou rushed into the town center carrying all manner of weapons and collectively screaming their heads off. There were some guns, but most of the women carried long knives that resembled machetes. They rushed the Jaffa and simply started hacking. When the Jaffa's armor proved to be impossible to penetrate with their knives they started aiming for necks and heads. The battle devolved into a gruesome scene. Many of the women fell as staff blasts tore through them.

Shaboni saw a Jaffa crouched and heading for her position. She fired her 'Zat twice, striking home and killing him. Her mind soared with the powerful feeling of finally being able to exact some kind of revenge for the cruelty she'd endured. She continued firing, disabling several Jaffa; the pounding of her heart driving her to a furious red rage. She raced forward when one of the women fell and grabbed her knife. A 'Zat in one hand, a hacking blade in the other, she pounced on the next Jaffa she could find. All the abuse she'd suffered came pouring out of her as she brought down one blow after another.

The Jaffa kept coming.

The sputter of automatic gunfire began to die out as they ran out of ammunition. They were down to handguns and whatever they could retrieve from the fallen. Aleo and Carus found themselves being approached on three sides by their former comrades. They stood back-to-back and waited for the end. Suddenly, the advancing party threw their weapons down and crouched in a fighting stance. They looked over their shoulders at the other, grinning: _this_ they would win.

The Jaffa kept coming.

Jack and Daniel had moved from the dark walkway to take cover behind the columns of a large stone colonnade. The pillars seemed to throw less debris at them as it took fire than the walls of the buildings all around. Jack could see Teal'c off to his far right handling the situation easily. Carter was firing her handgun and ducking back behind cover. Asclepius had positioned himself directly across from Jack at a slight angle so as not to endanger them with crossfire. He was engaged in close quarters combat, and devastating his opponents. After all, he'd trained many of them.

Daniel saw Shaboni break from cover and start chopping her way through Jaffa like they were produce. She had been screaming her fury at first, but the single-mindedness of training won out over blood lust. She fired her 'Zat twice more and found her way back to good cover.

"Daniel!" Jack shouted.

He realized he'd stopped firing. He'd allowed her to distract him. He mentally smacked himself and jumped right back into the fray.

Daniel reloaded and yelled, "Last magazine!" He fired a few more times, then ran out of ammunition altogether. Jack pulled the trigger and felt the click of the firing pin striking air.

The Jaffa kept coming.

They had exhausted their supplies and would have to break cover to try and find weapons. Jack and Daniel exchanged looks. Jack held up a finger: one.

Two.

Three.

And they bolted from behind the pillars supporting the portico. Jack instinctively moved towards Shaboni's position, knowing she would cover him. Daniel raced into the open hunting a weapon.

Daniel spotted a fallen Jaffa lying on top of his staff weapon. He shoved the man off the weapon, but never got his fist around it. He felt a painful smack and was slammed forward on top of the dead Jaffa. His head sang and his vision dimmed, but he didn't lose consciousness. Then he felt the particularly uncomfortable sensation of a Jaffa standing on his neck. Over the ringing in his ears he heard a loud voice declare, "SG-1! I have your man!"

The melee around him quickly died down. The slap of fists echoed across the great square as Aleo finished off his opponent, but everyone had heard the cry of the Jaffa. The situation went from bad to worse as screams from the other side of the buildings heralded the arrival of Chiron.

The few inhabitants of Dashou that remained backed away from the hated creature as he strode confidently into the courtyard. He surveyed the carnage around him dispassionately. In the moments they'd been watching Daniel and Chiron, Jaffa had flanked Jack and Sam's positions. Shaboni was relieved of her 'Zat and all of them were marched into the square.

Asclepius was shoved forward to face his former master.

"You have betrayed me," Chiron spoke lowly. "For this you will suffer," he paused melodramatically, "and die."

Asclepius smiled at him, "Then I die free." It was the battle cry of the rebel Jaffa. It was the notion that spurred them all to turn away from the only life they'd ever known and try to spread the fires of resistance.

One of the Jaffa that was guarding them struck Asclepius on the back of the legs, sending him into a kneeling position. Jack was standing beside him and was suddenly knocked to his knees as well. The Jaffa standing on Daniel's neck released him and forced him to his knees next to Jack. The Jaffa holding them brought Sam and Shaboni forward.

Chiron's eyes flashed in anger. He raised his voice so that the whole square and those cowering inside could hear:

"People of Dashou! You _women_ have been led astray by the ranting of offworlders…"

His oration was interrupted by the sizzle of a staff blast. It struck his personal force shield, causing it to glow red around him. Teal'c stood across the square, a defiant hatred twisting his usually placid face. He had gambled that Chiron would not have a shield, and lost. Instantly three Jaffa were on him. His staff weapon clattered to the paved walkway as he threw it down.

The sudden commotion from Teal'c had given the colonel enough time to reach down and unsheathe his knife. He dropped it next to his leg and covered it with his knee before returning his hand to his head then waited for his moment.

Chiron turned back to Shaboni and Sam and sneered. "You and your companion," he nodded at Daniel, "are coming with me." He turned to his Jaffa and ordered them, "Take these to the mines," he pointed at the Aleo and Carus. Then he lowered his face to look sinisterly through his eyelashes, "Kill the rest."

He reached out his hand to grab Shaboni by the wrist, but she flinched away, stumbling backwards. In her haste she tripped over Jack, falling to the ground next to him. Chiron let loose a throaty laugh at her. She felt Jack pressing something in her hand: a knife. She wrapped her hand around it and held it close under her as one of the Jaffa hauled her to her feet, her back to Chiron. In that instant all her thoughts calmed. Time slowed comfortably. She inhaled, calculated…

Shaboni spun on her feet and threw the knife with precision. Slipping through the shining armor of the shield, it met its mark. Chiron stood there with it sticking out of his neck just beneath his chin. A look of shock transformed his haughty face into something infinitely human.

Before the Jaffa could restrain her properly she stepped forward so Chiron could see her eyes.

"_My name is Shaboni Uziel!"_

And Chiron fell to the earth…dead.


	12. Chapter 12

Stunned silence filled the air around everyone in the square. The Jaffa guarding their prisoners gawked at the impossibility before them. They looked at one another, hoping to find some answers in their brothers eyes as their world unraveled.

Asclepius stood to his feet and seized his moment, "Brothers, we have too long been slaves to the Goa'uld: puppets in their grand schemes. Disposable. You see for yourselves we have devoted our lives to false gods. This is no god!" He pointed at Chiron's inert form.

Teal'c came forward and joined him, "All Jaffa should be free! I have pledged my life to fighting the Goa'uld in order to free our people. There are many of us, now, who have seen the truth for what it is. We only struggle to live a life that is free from oppression."

Many of the Jaffa standing in the square began to nod their heads in agreement. While the words of Asclepius and Teal'c were powerful, what moved them most was the dead body of Chiron in the dirt. He had been killed as easily as any man, and it was a woman who killed him.

The women and children of Dashou slowly began filling the square, keeping to its edges as if afraid to step into the midst of the power of the moment. Cassic appeared from the crowd. She was a mess; face smeared and hair painted red with blood, her dress tattered and filthy. Jack couldn't tell if she was injured or not, but she walked forward confidently and joined the two towering Jaffa. She turned and addressed her people:

"Freedom belongs to those who are willing to fight for it. Jaffa or no, we have all suffered because of the Goa'uld! Now Chiron is dead! Freedom is ours, if we are but willing to seize it!"

There was a beat, a silent reply, then suddenly all the women and some of the Jaffa raised their voices and shouted in chorus, celebrating their liberation. All the remaining inhabitants of Dashou were moving towards the town center. The cheer went on as it passed to the people and Jaffa standing outside the scene. Lifelong enemies were suddenly supposed to be allies, but many gazed at the others with conflicted hearts. Everything had changed.

Without a word the women began gathering the wounded and dead. They did not discriminate between human and Jaffa. They tended to all who needed aid, and treated the dead with equal respect. Then the Jaffa stooped and followed their lead.

Jack took a moment to observe the fruits of their labor. They had come to Dashou to free one woman. They had succeeded in freeing all the people of Dashou and many Jaffa. Word was spreading quickly among the remaining Jaffa that Chiron was dead and nearly all were agreeing to join the rebels. Teal'c assured them that they would not be alone in their struggle. The dissenters numbered so few as to be of no threat whatsoever. They were being escorted to the Stargate, having been allowed to choose their own destiny freely.

Jack got to his feet, feeling the familiar sinking spell that always came after battle. He watched the people milling about. Sam was helping with medical aid, as was Asclepius. Aleo and Carus were helping to clear their fallen brothers from the field of battle. Daniel was talking to Cassic. Teal'c was standing over the fallen body of Chiron like a carrion bird guarding its dinner.

He realized someone was missing. He turned in place, searching the throng of people for her long curly brown hair. She was nowhere. He called her name, but no one answered. She had been right next to them! Now she was nowhere to be seen.

He started walking the whole of the square, hunting with ever-increasing anxiety. She simply wasn't there. He began searching through the wounded in case she had been taken there. She hadn't.

"Carter," he called on his radio, "do you see Shaboni?"

"Negative, sir."

"Daniel? Teal'c?"

"Nope."

"I do not."

His mind raced with all manner of disturbing thoughts. He continued searching for some sign of her. Then, on a whim, he turned and headed to Cassic's bar. He opened the door and felt the blast of cool air push him back. All the breath seemed to go out of him when he saw her crumpled frame in the center of the floor.

He rushed to her and turned her on her back, "Shaboni?" Her eyes were closed, and she didn't answer. He reached shaking fingers to touch her neck. A quick flare of anger surged through him at the notion she might try to die on him again. He felt for a pulse: it was there, weak, but there. The sudden anger was replaced by the ridiculous notion that she seemed to have as many lives as Daniel.

He reached for his radio again, "Carter, I found her at Cassic's. She could use a medic."

"On my way."

Jack sat beside her still, silent body waiting for help. The tips of his fingers at her still throat registered the intense heat emanating from her, but despite the heat he felt there her face had turned a frightening ashen gray. A few minutes later Sam came into the bar, flanked by Asclepius. The two of them knelt beside her and gave her a good once-over.

"The effects of the stimulant I provided have worn off," Asclepius declared. "The strain of our escape and the battle, along with the effect the stimulant has on the body…" his voice trailed off. "It was probably more than she could withstand. Her fever has returned. Is there somewhere we can move her?"

Jack scooped her up off the floor, astonished at how light she felt compared to the last time he'd carried her. That time she had been so solid he thought his knees would give out. Now she was feather-light. It sickened him. He carried her up the stairs to the room Cassic had given him and Daniel. He laid her gingerly on the soft bed, situating her arms and legs in what he hoped was a comfortable position. He tenderly brushed her filthy, sweaty hair from her face, noting the high color in her cheeks a strange contrast to the horrible pallor of her skin.

Daniel and Cassic arrived at the bar shortly after Sam. They'd seen the two of them enter, but they weren't downstairs so they searched upstairs, finding the three of them standing there staring at Shaboni.

Daniel's stomach gave a little lurch. She was so still, and Jack looked so anguished…he was afraid…

"Jack? Is she…?"

The colonel turned to face his friend, his face looking every bit as old as it was. All the years of his life darkened his eyes; the boyish charm that usually made him look so much younger completely absent.

"No, no…at least not yet."

Cassic came forward and appraised the situation. She gently fingered the purple bruise at the corner of Shaboni's mouth. The warmth from her skin brought a hand to her forehead. Frowning at all the old blood and filth from her imprisonment, she put her hands on her hips, deliberating.

"Very well, all of you out," she pointed at the door. The strong command of a mother's voice motivated their feet and they were herded down the steps. She went behind the bar and filled three glasses with her potent ale, setting them down quickly. Then she gathered a large bowl and some clean towels. She pointed at the chairs as she walked back towards the staircase.

"Major Carter, would you please come with me. The rest of you sit."

The three of them sat obediently before they realized what they'd done. Thankful for something to focus on, Jack turned and faced the rich brown drink before him. He picked it up and took a sip, then changed his mind and gulped the whole thing down. It was purely respect for Cassic that kept him from going behind the bar and pouring himself another.

"I hate to interrupt your brooding," Daniel began gently. Jack glared at him. "But we have some unfinished business."

The three of them sat in silence, all understanding what he meant. Exhaustion was simply not an option. Asclepius was the first to rise and head for the door. Daniel followed him, but Jack hesitated. He didn't want to go. He wanted to stay right the hell here.

When he realized that Jack wasn't following, Daniel motioned Asclepius on ahead and turned back. He looked at the back of his friend, _yes, that would definitely be the right word_, in front of him; shoulders hunched, head hung down.

"Stay here," he suggested.

Jack's head popped up at the sound, a sudden jolt of pain reminding him of the abuse his head had taken the night before. He grimaced as he started to pull himself out of the chair. Duty calling…

"No, seriously, Jack. Stay here. You should be here in case…"

"In case she dies?" Jack interrupted.

"Actually, I was thinking 'in case she wakes up'. I mean it. You should stay here." And without waiting for an answer Daniel turned and left his grateful CO standing alone in the bar.

Some time later, the door to the bar burst open and Sheylan and Jerun bounded into the room, followed by Annan. Jack stood to greet them.

"Colonel O'Neill Jack!" Sheylan ran up to him and threw her arms around his legs.

"She talks about you a lot," Annan supplied, smiling.

"She doesn't know a thing about me," he responded matter-of-factly.

Annan pondered his comment for a moment then said, "Children have a way of knowing us the moment they meet us. It is as if they can see through to our inner being."

Jack thought she sounded like Daniel.

Cassic tromped down the stairs and greeted her friend with a hug.

Annan informed her, "They were in the cellar during the battle. Jorun, however, would have insisted that he be allowed to fight were it not for Sheylan. I was able to convince him to stay and protect her."

"You have my gratitude," she said to her friend.

Annan turned her face to Jack's and said, "And you have mine." She smiled a weary smile and left them.

He didn't wait a second before he asked, "How is she?"

"I am uncertain. I have done all I can for her. I am not trained, and those who know the healing arts are very busy with the injured. She has not awoken." Cassic went to her cupboard behind the bar again and removed the last of her clean towels, then she offered, "There is plenty of food and drink here. You are my guest and you may help yourself."

Cassic returned up the stairs leaving the colonel with Jorun and Sheylan standing there staring up at the man. He took a quick inventory of his appearance and realized he was still wearing the clothes he'd bled all over the night before, he had grime from trudging through the forest all over him, and he guessed the sweat from battling under the relentless sun had made his hair stick out all over.

They continued standing there staring at one another until Jorun made a frustrated face, turned, and shot up the stairs, taking two and a time. Sheylan stayed rooted to her spot, looking up at Jack with expectant eyes.

"You hungry?" He asked her.

"I am." Her little face was so open, so trusting. He was suddenly reminded of the terrific violence that had begun her existence and his heart skipped a beat. He would be working overtime to lock up all the horrific images he'd gained on this little excursion. He held out his hand to Sheylan, and she took it. She was merely a child, he reminded himself. And a sweet one at that.

"Let's see what we can find to eat."

* * *

Daniel, Teal'c and Asclepius carried the body of Chiron back to the palace. By the time they got there it was very late in the day. When they broke through the trees, approaching the entrance to the palace, they discovered a great many Jaffa had gathered there. Confidently, Teal'c walked up to them and unceremoniously dumped the body of Chiron in the dirt, knife still sticking out of his neck.

"Behold the false god!" Teal'c's voice boomed across the clearing.

There were looks of awe, silent angry glares, and murmurings among the Jaffa. Asclepius stepped forward and addressed his men, "The Tau'ri prisoner that has occupied so much of his attention these last weeks is the one who ended his life."

An audible gasp came from the group, then several asking, "The _woman_?"

"I witnessed it myself. The beast that called himself _god_ was nothing more than a human man."

"Impossible!

"That is a lie!"

"Sholva!"

The sounds of dissent began to grow. Daniel stepped forward and spoke, "We have killed several Goa'uld. They are nothing more than parasites. You don't have to be slaves to them!"

There was jostling among the Jaffa as one pushed his way forward, "I believe you, as do many of us. What would you have us do now?"

Teal'c replied, "Those of you who wish to join us in our fight to free all Jaffa will have a place where we are safe from the Goa'uld. Those of you who do not will be allowed to travel through the Stargate to a world of your choosing."

After a moment's deliberation several stepped forward, leaving only a few still swearing fealty to their dead god.

"We have also come here to free the slaves of Chiron. This palace is filled with the sons and husbands of Dashou. If you believe in freedom for all, then you will help us return them to their home," Asclepius declared. Then he walked deliberately through the large group of Jaffa and entered the palace.

* * *

Night had fallen. Jack sat on the floor next to Shaboni's bed, not wanting to dirty the covers of the other bed. Sam had helped Cassic change her clothes and clean her up. She didn't look quite as awful as she had, but the angry marks all over her body persisted. He wondered if she would be able to recover from what had been done to her. She'd had a truly horrible year: poisoned, hit by a truck, abducted, experimented on, abducted again, and tortured. He figured that if she lived she might someday actually be able to climb out of the nightmare of it. He put his hands to his aching head, lost in thought.

"Sir?" Carter was there. She'd been in and out a few times, unwilling to hover. "You okay?"

He sighed, "Head hurts, but that's about it."

"There's plenty of hot water in the bathroom if you want to go get cleaned up."

He looked up at her then and realized she looked pretty clean, herself. Everyone was washing away all the accumulated grime of the day, turning the nightmare that had occurred since they'd arrived in Dashou into nothing more than a memory. He thought it sounded like a good idea.

When he'd done what he could to clear away the dirt and blood he went back to Shaboni's side and resumed his vigil on the floor.

The frustration he'd felt earlier, when he was watching her in the cell, began to build. The notion that she'd listened to Mayborne twisted his stomach. How could she have believed him?! Why didn't she simply confront him with what Mayborne had told her? Hadn't he at least earned that much?

The image of Harry Mayborne's smug smile prompted him to his feet. He started pacing again. He had wanted to tear the man apart before, but then just when he thought that Mayborne's political maneuvering had sucked his soul to ashes he would do something astonishingly helpful. The back and forth of it was infuriating. It was impossible to tell what team he was playing for.

'_He's playing for team Mayborne,'_ Jack thought.

The sound of movement from the bed jerked his attention back to the present. He returned to Shaboni's side and watched, holding his breath, willing her to open her eyes. She opened her mouth and tested her damaged lips. With a flicker and a sigh her eyes opened and they stood there staring at each other for a long moment.

"Welcome back."

She closed her eyes and for a brief second he thought she'd slipped away again, but then she smiled a gentle sweet smile and opened them again.

"Thank you for getting me out of that place."

"It's all part of the service, ma'am. We aim to please." He shoved the anger he'd been feeling a moment earlier aside, opting to focus on the relief he felt at seeing light in her again.

* * *

Daniel and Teal'c had radioed in that they needed to trek to the mines and free the prisoners there, and barring any resistance they would be returning the following evening. That next night it came time for the women to come out and dance their dance, but no one seemed to know what to do. Their eyes kept darting off in the direction of Chiron's palace, hoping…begging…waiting. Cassic stepped out of her comfortable position behind the barrier of her bar and slipped out into the crowd. She found Annan and took her hand and said confidently, "They will return, but until they do we will dance."

And so they danced. Sam watched from the walkway in front of Cassic's bar, as she had a few nights earlier. It didn't seem such a hollow thing this time. There was hope in the faces of the women.

There was a shout from outside the square and suddenly someone ran up to the dancing group of women, "They're coming!!!"

An excited cry erupted from the ladies and hands reached out to grab the hands and arms of those standing next to them; the expectation of the moment too much to contain.

Suddenly the men were there. Their wives and mothers took tentative steps forward, then someone broke into a run and all restraint was abandoned. Everywhere there was embracing and laughing and crying. Lovers kissed each other passionately, mothers fell to their knees embracing lost sons.

Then there were those who were searching, hoping and yet not finding. Mothers and wives searched in vain. Their men failed to return. Several of the husbands and sons, too, wandered through the crowd of revelers searching faces for those they loved. Many women had fallen in battle. They would not find them. The longer the reunion carried on the more somber their faces grew. They melted away from the joyous riot before them; hands covering mouths, holding back grief and fear. Tears flowing, arms gripping each other, offering what little comfort they could.

Cassic searched the chaotic scene for her husband. Everywhere she looked people had already found their lost loved ones, but she didn't see him. Daniel, Teal'c and Asclepius walked into the circle of light inside the square. Cassic gaped at them, horrified. She assumed they were the last to return.

"Daniel…where is Nathan?" Her stricken face spoke her fear that he was never going to return.

"Oh…he's right behind us." Daniel flashed her a huge grin as all the fear in her face exploded into hope again.

Nathan walked into the light and their eyes met. He smiled his shy smile: the one that sent her heart racing. They threw their arms around one another and held on for dear life, neither one wanting to speak a word for fear of breaking the moment.

Sometime during the commotion Jack had joined Sam outside. He couldn't stop himself from grinning as he watched a community rebuilt. It was one of the reasons they do what they do.

"Kindof makes you feel useful, doesn't it?" He asked.

"Yes, Colonel, it sure does."

Sheylan and Jorun ran out of the tavern to where their mother was standing holding her husband.

"_Father_!" Jorun threw his arms around the both of them with pure joy.

After a moment Cassic pulled away and invited Sheylan to come to her. The little girl placed her hand in her mother's staring up with wonder at the man before her.

"Nathan," she began tentatively, "this is Sheylan."

Nathan bent down so he could get a better look at the pretty little girl. He thought she looked very much like her mother. Very much, indeed.

"Who are you?" Sheylan asked, wide-eyed.

Nathan smiled his brightest smile and answered her, "I am your father." Cassic's eyes shined brightly with tears at the volumes he spoke with those words.

She searched his smile with probing eyes then smiled for him, "Hello, father." Cassic knelt next to her daughter and the happy family hugged each other again.

One of the men reached into a sack he carried with him and pulled out a stringed instrument. He produced a bow and began to slide it back and forth across the strings, filling the air with a joyful tune to match the mood. Several of the teenage boys disentangled themselves from the clutching arms of their mothers and joined the lone musician. Before long they had a full-fledged band playing in the town center.

Cassic took Nathan's hand and led him closer to the musicians. Understanding her intentions, he took her in his arms and began to dance her around and around in circles. Several of the other couples quickly joined in and suddenly it was a party!

The whole town celebrated the return of their men and their freedom from Goa'uld oppression. Cassic produced copious amounts of her special ale and everyone got loosened up. After a couple of drinks Daniel impulsively grabbed Sam and danced her around for a turn until they collapsed laughing on the railing outside the tavern. Daniel watched the whole display feeling lighter than he could remember in a long time. He had noticed the men and women who could not join in the party: the ones for whom there would be no reunion. Those that didn't return to their homes, outright, hung back in the shadows as if being near the jubilation of the others helped soothe the ache in their own hearts. They knew this was a time to rejoice. If they couldn't do so themselves they would simply have to settle for being close to it. The way he felt now reassured him that the joy that surrounded them would eventually rub off.

Suddenly Daniel realized that Jack was nowhere to be found. He only had to take one guess as to where he was. He slipped away from the noisy celebration and tiptoed up the stairs of the tavern. He found the grizzled colonel sitting on the floor next to Shaboni's bed, leaning against a wall and snoring away. He grinned knowingly down at the man, understanding that sleep would always come easy when you knew you were safe, and that you were going home.


	13. Chapter 13

Jack sat across from his CO looking sheepish. He knew there was going to be hell to pay for operating outside - all the way outside - the parameters of their mission, but he also knew they'd done the right thing.

"Jack, I wouldn't have a problem with this if we hadn't discussed it in the mission briefing. I was very clear about your mission parameters." He paused then added, "Granted, you brought more Jaffa into the alliance in four days than we have in the last year. And you eliminated one more Goa'uld threat." General Hammond closed the folder on his desk containing the stack of reports detailing Colonel O'Neill's various breeches of protocol and all manner of creative interpretation of orders. "That being said, I want to congratulate you on a job well done. How is Captain Uziel?"

"She's peachy, sir," he replied flatly.

Granting his wayward second a patient smile the general responded, "Understood. I'll ask Dr. Frasier. You can go, Colonel."

Jack gave a little bow expressing his gratitude for the general not nailing his butt. He knew he deserved it, but that was the thing about command: when you're there you have to make decisions and hope that they're the right ones, come what may. If he were placed in the same situation again he couldn't think of a single thing he would have done differently. Except maybe get there sooner.

He made his way back to the infirmary. Shaboni was sleeping. She was doing that a lot. He would sit with her for hours, waking her gently when her dreams eroded into nightmares. She hadn't said much since she collapsed at Cassic's. He hadn't either. They would lock eyes and stare at each other briefly until one would look away. The awkward silences were growing harder to tolerate.

She was afraid. He could see it in her eyes, but he wasn't exactly sure what she was afraid of. He tried to tell himself it was merely that she'd been mercilessly beaten for four weeks, but something was nagging at the corners of his mind. It wasn't just when she was thinking about what had happened. She was acting afraid all the time.

He knew all too well that some kinds of torture were worse than others. Deciding he didn't want to stress Shaboni with a direct line of questioning, he went after the information he sought another way.

Dr. Frasier appeared at Shaboni's bedside and looked over the readouts on the various monitors attached to her.

"How's she doin'?" Jack asked.

"Well, Sir, there's no short answer." She sighed, "Colonel, she's been through an incredible ordeal. It could take months for her to regain her strength."

"I already know that. I want to know _exactly_ how she's doing." The seriousness of his eyes bored through her, and he was using his best that's-an-order voice.

"Very well, Colonel, come with me." She beckoned him away from Shaboni's side and into her office then pointed at a chair across from her desk. They both sat. "You want to hear the whole story, I'll give it to you." She straightened up to deliver the laundry list of injuries Shaboni had sustained. "She has three skull fractures. Two to her left anterior temporal bone and one to the occipital bone."

"You're speaking 'doctor'. Try again."

"Two cracks in her skull here," she pointed to the left side of her head just above the ear, "and one here," she pointed to the back of her head. "She has pneumonia and campylobacteriosis, that's a water borne disease that causes extreme gastrointestinal distress and a high fever. She has three broken ribs. Whether that's from the CPR or having been beaten I can't say. There are fractures to the long bones and cuboid bones…those are the bones in your arch…of both feet." She paused to take a breath. Jack remained silent as Janet continued, "Her kidney function is compromised and she's severely anemic, not to mention she's twenty pounds underweight. Other than that she's covered with bruises and lacerations, which should heal if her other illnesses or injuries don't kill her first."

Jack sat there waiting for her to continue. He felt certain she'd left something out.

"Assuming she lives, with rehab…"

"Is that all?" he interrupted her.

"Is that _all_?" she repeated, incredulous. "Sir, with all due respect. Isn't that enough?"

Suddenly it dawned on her exactly what he was asking. His eyes darted to the floor and back to her face. He could see that she understood the question for what it was.

"Colonel, I think you know that information like that…I couldn't give it to you unless…" she stammered.

A blaze of heat reddened his face. Adrenalin shot through him. Her avoidance of his question felt too much like a confirmation. His jaw muscles contracted in spasms clenching his teeth together. He stared at her willing himself not to act. He wouldn't scream at Dr. Frasier. He wouldn't smash up her office. He would simply sit very, very still until he could mentally file away the image of Shaboni bound to that torture table with Chiron on top of her.

Janet realized what was happening. This was the lethal stillness she'd witnessed in him on a very few occasions and it frightened her. He had misinterpreted her and she saw no good option for correcting his assumption. Information of such a personal nature wasn't something she was comfortable revealing without consent. The only person she would ever have revealed such things to was the general, but she could see that the colonel needed to hear the words spoken aloud, and quickly. She knew she had to fix this, but fixing one problem created another. Several painfully long moments passed with her looking at him as he stared right through her.

"The answer to your question is no, Colonel," she decided. His eyes snapped back to her face. "She denied it, and it is my medical opinion that she was not raped while she was imprisoned."

Relief flooded him. He felt the tension hitching up his shoulders give way. Counting breaths, he tried to still his racing heart. For a moment he'd thought…but he'd been wrong. And he couldn't remember ever being so glad he was wrong. He knew that what she'd gone through had been an indescribable horror, but for some reason he couldn't figure out, he believed she was still going to be okay. As long as _that_ hadn't happened, she would be able to make her way back to them.

"Hold on, Colonel," she interrupted his release. Figuring she'd already betrayed her patient's confidentiality she plowed ahead, "You need to understand that just because he didn't rape her doesn't mean he didn't abuse her intimately. That is all I am going to say. If you need to know any more you will have to ask Shaboni."

And as suddenly as it had gone, the flash fire of adrenalin scorched through his body again. He felt lightheaded at the sudden confusing shift.

_It's not the same_, he told himself. _Right?_

Head still spinning, he willed himself to his feet. "Thanks," he said quietly and returned to Shaboni's bedside.

_It's not the same._


	14. Chapter 14

"Mornin'," Jack smiled at Shaboni as he dropped a bag on her lap.

"What is this?" Her voice still sounded hoarse, but everything else about her seemed almost well.

"Breakfast. I figured you'd be tired of oatmeal."

She tore into the flaky pastry he'd brought her hungrily.

"So, you're getting out of here today." It was more a confirmation than a question.

"Dr. Frasier has agreed to move me to a private room here at the SGC while I am to be continuing my recovery. I believe it to be the same room as I where I was staying before." She wiped flaky crumbs from her mouth and grinned gently.

"How's the feet?" He asked a little too offhandedly.

She lowered her hands and raised an eyebrow at him. Something in his tone had moved beyond the conversational. He was asking for a reason.

"They are healing. It has been only two weeks. Dr. Frasier tells me that I am to be not walking for two more, but," she lowered her voice conspiratorially, "I am certain it will not take that long." She eyed him, gauging his reaction. He gave nothing away, but she was certain his question had deeper implications.

They found themselves locked in an all-too-familiar awkward silence, staring each other down. In the first days after she got back to Earth the strained silences had become habitual. There were more things that needed to be said than in all heaven and earth, but neither of them seemed to know how to start an actual conversation about something meaningful. For several days Jack's lingering gaze would unnerve her. She had found the need to duck her head and look away, but today she felt different. A little less frightened, a little less like some sick, vulnerable victim. Today she didn't look away. He did.

That was when she knew she had him. He definitely wanted to say something more. But he didn't. He mumbled, "Let me know if you need anything," and beat a hasty retreat. She continued to nibble at the pastry and wondered to herself how they would ever get things back to being the way they were.

That afternoon he returned to help her move to the VIP quarters where she'd be staying until she was recovered enough to move on. She was sleeping again as he entered the infirmary. The deep olive of her skin had returned and her hair splayed out around her head in a heavy brown cloud. He watched her peaceful features under vanishing bruises. The livid purple and blue marks that had covered her when they found her had been replaced with graying and greenish-brown blobs. The cuts to her mouth had mostly healed leaving behind pink lines that would probably result in permanent scars. The cuts and bruises on her wrists looked less well healed, but definitely better than before. And her appetite seemed to be perfectly healthy. Gone was the disconcerting gauntness to her cheeks, the jarring, angular way her shoulders and arms framed her. She was regaining the weight she'd lost. All in all, it appeared that her physical health was returning much more quickly than he'd anticipated.

He suddenly realized he'd spent a good bit of the time they'd been in each other's presence watching her sleep. He'd memorized the outline of her jaw, the short, fine baby hairs that curled at her forehead and temple, the strong curve of her nose, and the little dimple under it that led to her delicate mouth. He knew the scars on her back, the blotches of sun damage on her shoulders from too much time in the desert sun, and the funny way she tucked her little feet under her when she sat. It dawned on him that in all the hours he'd sat with her since he'd met her he'd done far more watching her than talking with her. Still, when she'd been awake and well enough to talk he'd found her accent and the odd way that she misspoke English to be just as endearing as the way she sat.

His mind flashed back to the moment he saw her fighting the Jaffa on Dashou. She had moved with grace and strength, granted much of that strength had been fueled by Asclepius' magic pill, but Jack had experienced her fierceness first-hand. She was as lethal as they came. The grace and beauty of the woman before him had to be one of nature's most deceptive charms. Given provocation she could probably break him in half. He smiled at the thought. For some reason he didn't think he would mind too much…

Shaboni's head rolled from one side to the other and her body stiffened. Her lips parted and a barely audible panting breath escaped. The sudden movement from the bed in front of him drew Jack back to the present and he realized she was dreaming. From the looks of it the dream was none-too-pleasant. He reached up and shook her arm gently, but she didn't rouse. Her hands came up to shield her face and the panting became crying.

Jack stood and shook her shoulder a little more forcefully, "Shaboni."

Caught somewhere between the horrors of her nightmare and the sense that someone had her she came fully awake, disoriented. Her hands shot out to fend off the nebulous threat and her cries hitched up several notches in intensity.

"Min fadlak, LAA!" Jack's limited knowledge of Arabic afforded him the simple translation: _please, NO! _ He had seen her revert to Arabic before when she'd been poisoned. They'd learned that her job with IDF Sayeret had her infiltrating a terrorist training camp in Syria. She'd been so well conditioned by her training that she no longer reverted to Hebrew, but Arabic.

"Mit khafeesh! Atryhené," he told her in his limited Arabic (_It is safe! Rest._). He grabbed her wrists and held them in his strong grasp to keep her from trying to break his nose for a third time. The first time she'd broken it she'd been in a similar state.

She stopped short, confusion and terror filled her eyes.

"Shaboni? You awake?" He continued holding her wrists, but loosened his grip so that he wouldn't hurt her.

Finally, she closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath. "Yes, I am sorry."

Jack dropped her arms, "No apologies necessary."

She lowered her face, embarrassed. Sensing the need to not dwell on the vulnerability of the moment Jack decided to change the subject.

"Ready to get outta here?"

She grinned a crooked little grin, her eyes relaxing at the realization she would not have to explain coming awake screaming and fighting. "I am."

Jack hopped up and grabbed a wheelchair and wheeled it to her bedside. She threw back the covers and visibly blushed when she realized she was still wearing nothing but a hospital gown. She quickly drew the covers up to her chin, grinning playfully.

"Do you think there are clothes I could be getting?"

"Sure, I'll be back in a sec." He went to Janet's office and found the good doctor sitting behind her desk deeply involved in paperwork. She didn't look up when he entered, so he knocked on the door frame.

"Colonel! I'm sorry I didn't see you." She stood up and indicated he should enter. "What can I do for you?"

"Shaboni needs some clothes before I take her to her quarters. You got anything that would suffice?"

"Sure, take her some scrubs. The women's mediums would be perfect." She pointed to a set of rolling wire shelves in the corridor beyond her office, "Right there."

He nodded in thanks, located the appropriate bin containing the scrubs and nicked a pair to give Shaboni. Then he walked back into the infirmary where she was laying, and froze in the doorway.

Shaboni had turned on her side and was reaching to replace a cup of water on the table beside her bed. The covers had fallen away and her hospital gown had slid up leaving her bare legs uncovered. There in the harsh light of the infirmary Jack could see numerous bruises on the backs of her legs and on the pale flesh between. In the midst of the grotesque bruising there was a white rectangular bandage partially covering unhealed slashes running in long lines up the length of her left inner thigh. The slash marks disappeared beneath the fabric of the gown that was barely leaving anything to the imagination. The problem with that was Jack's imagination was taking up where sight left off. His stomach did an abrupt about-face and he decided very quickly that he should follow it.

Jack retreated hastily to the corridor and leaned against the concrete wall trying to regain his equilibrium. He couldn't stop the assault of the images that rained on him. Squeezing his eyes tightly closed he leaned his forehead into the rough cold concrete. The smell of it, the mild sting of the surface biting into his skin, and the sound of his ragged breath in his ears worked in combination to distract him from the obscene images behind his eyes. He pushed his head a little harder into the wall, willing away the fresh sense of crazy that was trying to take over. He knew it had been bad. Whatever Chiron had done to Shaboni had to have been the worst kind of hell, but his conversation with Dr. Frasier had given him reason to believe that it hadn't been that _kind_ of hell. He'd thought for sure that if Chiron hadn't raped her she would be okay. Now he had incontrovertible evidence that while perhaps she hadn't been raped in the traditional sense, there was no doubt she'd been savagely violated.

He dropped the scrubs in the corridor and headed as fast as he could for the elevator.


	15. Chapter 15

Daniel exited onto level 21 and was nearly run over as Jack walked unseeing past him into the open elevator.

"Jack?" He turned and tried to follow him onto the elevator, but the colonel just wordlessly pointed at him with a threatening finger and with his other hand jabbed at the 'close doors' button on the panel.

Daniel turned and headed back towards the infirmary, noticing the neatly folded pile of scrubs in the hallway just outside the entrance. He peeked inside and found Shaboni sitting up in the bed watching the doorway expectantly.

"Hey," he tried to be nonchalant, but couldn't stop his eyebrows knitting together in concern. Clearly something had just happened here.

"Did you see Jack out there? He was supposed to be bringing me something to wear. I thought that I was hearing him, but then...you came," she frowned at him, worried.

"Yeah…" he started, glanced down the corridor then turned back to Shaboni. "I saw him. He looked a little…um…upset. Did something happen?"

Shaboni's face reddened and she looked down at her hands, "He was waking me up from the bad dream. I think I was fighting him."

"Well if you were I don't think that would be enough to upset him. You've hit him before and it didn't send him running off. Are you sure there was nothing else?"

She considered his question then replied, "I do not think so." She pushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, frustrated that she didn't understand what had just happened.

Daniel eyed the wheelchair, "You going somewhere?"

"Oh, Jack was to be taking me to the VIP quarters. That is why he was helping me find some clothes. I did not want to ride across the base wearing only this." She gestured to her hospital gown.

"Hang on," Daniel held up a finger and then ducked into the hallway, retrieving the clothes he assumed Jack had gathered to bring to her. He handed them to Shaboni.

He started to leave to let her dress in private, but she stopped him. "I am needing some help here."

Daniel looked around for a nurse to help her, but couldn't find one. Understanding what he was doing she smiled sweetly at him and elaborated, "I do not need help with all of it. I promise I will not be embarrassing you."

He grinned shyly back at her and held out a hand to say, "What can I do?"

Shaboni pointed at the bow tied in the strings of the gown at the back of her neck. He reached around and unfastened it for her. She tried to reach behind her waist to untie it there, but could not make her arms cooperate. Her shoulders had suffered some trauma from all the time she'd spent shackled to the stone table and she was still extremely sore. She looked up and Daniel and asked, "Will you get this one too?"

He tried to reach behind her to unfasten the tie, but couldn't reach, so she pushed the covers off her legs and scooted forward in the bed. She was sitting cross-legged and the gown was pulled over her knees, but when she scooted forward her hand caught the hem of the gown and it slid up her thighs, exposing them. Daniel bent forward to reach around her again and caught sight of the bandage, bruising, and cuts marking her inner thighs. For a split second he hesitated, but hurriedly unfastened the gown from around her waist. The he leaned back to see if there was anything further she wanted him to do, trying desperately to keep his face dispassionate.

Shaboni started to scoot herself back so she could disrobe under the covers of the bed and realized that Daniel had seen her legs. Her head shot up and she saw the look in his eyes. She sat stone still, not sure what to do. The look on his face told her everything. He knew what he was seeing. There was no rational explanation that would untell the tale. Frozen, Shaboni could neither look away, nor cover herself.

Daniel watched all the color drain from Shaboni's cheeks and decided that pretending this wasn't happening was simply not the appropriate measure here. "Shaboni, does Jack know about this?"

She shook her head slowly back and forth, finally finding her voice, "I…I do not think so."

"You haven't told him?"

She continued slowly shaking her head, "We have not been talking about any of it." Her eyes fell away from Daniel's and she gathered the covers in her fists to pull them up over her legs, hiding the evidence of Chiron's torture.

"Could he have seen this?"

"I do not think so."

Daniel pondered the situation for a moment. He had a sneaking suspicion that Jack had either simply figured it out or seen the evidence that he'd just seen. Either way, it would explain his odd behavior a few moments earlier. He shook his head and focused his attention back on Shaboni.

"Is there anything else I can do?"

"Will you please take me to the VIP quarters? I do not think Jack is coming back."

Daniel nodded then stepped into the corridor to allow her some privacy to dress. He could hear the sound of her struggling and sucking in pained gasps as she pulled the scrubs on. Once she had quieted he asked from around the corner, "You ready?"

She didn't answer. Daniel peeked around the corner and found her sitting on the side of the bed, dressed in the green scrubs, eyes closed, and grasping the mattress with both hands. Sweat stood out on her forehead and her fingers were gripping the mattress hard enough to turn knuckles white. He went to her side and asked gently, "Hey, you okay?"

She nodded quickly, but didn't open her eyes. "I…had to be…to…stand up," she explained falteringly. "The pants."

Daniel looked down to her feet. She had no casts, despite having broken bones in both feet. There were soft braces there for support, but they didn't offer any way to relieve the pain she felt when she had to put her weight on her feet.

She opened her eyes, "Would you please ask Dr. Frasier to come with some medicine?" Daniel nodded and hurried to find Janet.

He found her in her office, "Janet, Shaboni needs you. I think she wants something for pain. She stood up to put pants on and it seemed to hurt quite a bit." He paused then added, "Why aren't her feet in casts?"

Janet rose from her desk and motioned for him to follow her. As she walked into the drug closet and unlocked the narcotics cabinet she explained, "Daniel, I did put her feet in casts. We had to take them off. Not being able to move her feet…" Janet's voice trailed off as she read the labels of several bottles of pills.

Daniel finished the thought for her, "…felt too much like being locked in place by ankle irons."

Dr. Frasier dropped one of the bottles in her pocket and put the rest back then she turned to Daniel with a sad expression and nodded.

* * *

Daniel helped Shaboni into the wheelchair and pushed her to her base quarters on level 25. By the time he got her situated in her quarters she was thoroughly exhausted, aided in no small part by the hefty dose of Vicodin Janet had given her. He helped her into bed and she quickly fell still and silent, a heavy drugged sleep overtaking her. He left her and went to find Jack.

After trying his office without success, Daniel went to Sam's office. He wasn't there either. He called Jack's cell, but there was no answer. He asked Teal'c if he'd seen him, but Teal'c hadn't either. He tried the commissary on 22, but it was deserted. Finally, he found him back on level 21 in the gym assaulting the heavy bag with no gloves or tape on his hands.

"Jack." He kept hitting the bag. "Jack!" Daniel said a little louder.

The colonel hit the bag one last time for good measure then turned an irritated face to his young companion. He said nothing, but the look dared Daniel to gripe at him.

"You okay?" Daniel didn't really have a plan of attack, but he wasn't going to just ignore the situation either.

"Never better," Jack said flatly.

"Right. Is that why you're making hamburger of your knuckles?"

Jack looked down at the skinned and bleeding flesh on the backs of his fingers. He hadn't felt a thing. He simply needed to beat back the images that were burning their way through his brain.

"Look, Daniel, I know you're just trying to be helpful here, but I really _don't_ want to talk about it." Jack turned his back to the young doctor and started punching the bag again as if to prove that there was no point in trying to have a conversation.

But Daniel wasn't so easily dissuaded. "Jack, I…" he started but the colonel just quickened his pace, landing a series of jabs in a quick sequence that effectively drowned out Daniel's words.

Daniel approached him from the side and raised his voice insistently, "JACK!"

Without thinking, and without really meaning to, Jack turned on Daniel and threw a vicious right hook that sent the doctor's glasses flying from his face. Daniel staggered and fell to his seat with a dull "thump" on the sparring mat. His hand shot up to the left side of his face, holding his eye.

"Jesus, Jack! What the hell?!"

Jack instantly regretted the careless loss of control. He dropped down to his knees and covered his mouth with a bloody hand.

"Daniel…I'm…I'm sorry," he stammered. "I don't…I didn't…" His eyes revealed his own revulsion at the mindless act. He sat back and put his knees out in front of him then hung his arms over them, letting the cool air of the room minister to his stinging hands.

Daniel fingered his eye, squinting at the tender welt that would become a noticeable shiner by the end of the day. Using his shirt tale he wiped the smear of blood from Jack's knuckles off his face. "So I guess the answer to my question is no, you're _not _okay."

"Seriously, Daniel, I'm really sorry."

"I know. Look, I came to talk to you because I think I figured out what set you off in the infirmary." Daniel sat up straight and grabbed his glasses from the corner of the mat. He slid them on and leveled his gaze at the colonel.

Jack merely sat there, staring down at his butchered knuckles, nothing to say. There was no need for their typical back-and-forth banter here. As much as he might not want to admit it, Daniel probably knew him better than just about anyone else. And he was generally the second smartest person that Jack knew. If he thought he'd figured out the problem, he was probably right.

"When you didn't come back I helped Shaboni untie the hospital gown she was wearing so she could get into the scrubs. When she pushed the covers off her I saw her legs." He let that revelation hang in the air, testing for a reaction. If Jack had one, he didn't let it show. "Did you know about the bruises and cuts between her legs?"

Without looking up, Jack explained, "I had gone to get her the scrubs. As I was bringing them back to her I walked into the infirmary and she was turned over without the covers on her. I saw the bandage…bruises…I saw…" He didn't finish.

"You had to know something like this was possible, even likely, after everything Cassic told us."

"I had questioned Frasier about it already. She said Shaboni denied it and that she didn't think that she was…you know…"

"Raped."

"Right."

"You need to talk to her, Jack."

"Why?"

"Because you care about her. And because they're not going to let her stay this time." At that statement Jack met Daniel's dark look. "She broke the law, Jack. She'll be lucky if she doesn't go to prison."

And there it was. Daniel had spoken the words that Jack had been avoiding since the moment he'd found out she was working with Mayborne. He was suddenly on his feet and pacing, all the pent up anger and frustration and worry bubbling to the surface. Daniel got to his feet as well, but backed up a bit, sensing the intensity coming off Jack in waves. He watched his friend stalk back and forth, lumbering between the mat and wall, then without another word Jack punched the heavy bag as hard as he could and stormed out of the gym.

Before he even got to the door of her quarters, Jack heard the maddening sound of Shaboni screaming incoherently. He tore through the door and found her huddled in a corner fighting an unseen foe. Under other circumstances he might have feared that the SGC was under attack by invisible forces, but not this time. _This_ he knew. _This _was the aftermath of imprisonment and torture. _This_ was an enemy far more insidious than the most formidable alien race: it was the enemy known as terror, and helplessness, and the permanence of memory.

He went to her side and grabbed her arms once again, knowing that without even trying she could inflict damage. "Shaboni! Wake up!" He shook her hard, but her screaming and fighting didn't cease. Her arms and face were slick with sweat. "SHABONI!" He tried again, but this was no ordinary nightmare. It was no flashback.

It was a night terror.

She wasn't actually dreaming. Instead she was locked in a hellish sleeping hallucination that he couldn't wake her from. There was nothing he could do but ride it out with her. He maneuvered himself behind her and pulled her arms across her chest in a basket hold to protect them both, careful to keep his head to the side because he knew she would…

BAM!

Her head snapped back and rammed into his shoulder with enough force to bruise it. He had her arms pulled tight around her and he just held on for dear life, trying to keep her from hurting either of them. In his fists he could feel her pulse slamming against his fingers. Her heart rate was easily three times faster than normal. She thrashed and screamed and spat a mixture of Hebrew and Arabic curses, then without warning she stilled. He didn't dare move.

Suddenly two armed SFs came running into the room with weapons drawn.

"Sir! We heard-"

Jack shook his head at them. "I have it under control, Airman. Thank you." They exchanged concerned looks, but obediently acquiesced and backed out of the room, pulling the door closed behind them. Jack knew beyond all doubt they were merely standing right outside the door in case the situation devolved.

Shaboni's head finally relaxed and fell back against the shoulder she'd bashed. He winced when it landed in the same spot as before reawakening the bruised pain. When he was positive she'd moved into another stage of sleep he let go of her wrists. She didn't stir. He pushed himself from behind her and slipped his arms under her shoulders and knees, gathering her to him. Then he lifted her and laid her back in the bed. Once he had her situated he pulled a chair up beside her and settled in to watch her sleep one more time.

He was going to wait for her to wake up, but he had no idea what to say when she did. In the stillness of the long stretch of time before him, his mind started wandering. Without warning it took him to the past, the distant past. Charlie was maybe four years old and he was sitting up in his bed screaming his head off. It had scared Jack to death the first time his son had had a night terror. He would just sit there and scream as if he was being tortured by his worst fear, and neither of his parents could awaken him. Charlie would never remember the next day that he'd had one, but Jack and Sarah hated them. They were frightening. Doctors assured them that Charlie was perfectly normal and that he would be just fine. He was right: Charlie grew out of having night terrors by the time he was seven.

Jack had done a lot of reading about night terrors back in those days. It helped to understand the nature of the problem. One thing he remembered from all his studying was that when adults had night terrors it was often brought on by extreme stress.

'_Extreme stress,'_ Jack laughed to himself. How profoundly understated a description for what Shaboni must be dealing with.

Time unfolded slowly, and the afternoon became evening. Jack watched and waited for Shaboni to wake up. She didn't have any further outbursts in her sleep and if she had had a nightmare, he couldn't tell. She barely moved. But Jack was determined that he would see this through.

In the deep, quiet hours of the night she finally opened her eyes. Jack had dozed off while sitting in the chair. The sound of the covers sliding against each other as she pushed herself into a sitting position instantly drew him from slumber. His eyes popped open and he straightened up. In the cool shadows of the darkened room the two stared at each other, locked in the wordless standoff that had become the hallmark of all their time together since they'd returned from Dashou.

Neither of them looked away. Jack could feel heat tingeing his cheeks. If he was going to do it, it would have to be now.

"What did Chiron do to you?"

She blinked, but didn't move. She felt a familiar surge of adrenalin spike its way through her body, quickening her breath and drying her mouth. Still, she said nothing.

"Shaboni, what did he do to you?" Jack tried to ask gently, but even to his own ears his voice sounded harsh and commanding. Something in the back of his thoughts told him this was not the way to convince someone to discuss a traumatic event. But this wasn't just someone. This was Captain Shaboni Uziel of the Sayeret Shaldag. She was a Mossad-trained intelligence officer. She was a soldier. And she was _no victim_. The time for letting Chiron continue to torture her had passed.

Shaboni took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She knew what he was doing was the right thing, but it didn't make the conversation any easier.

"In the entire time I was there he was asking me only two questions," she started. "The first was where was the rest of my team. I told him that I was alone." She stopped for a moment, knowing that the next question was where all the fear lay. Jack merely sat in expectant silence. "The other was for me to be telling him my name." Finally she managed to unlock her fix on his eyes, looking away. The words were pushing for air; no longer would they be swallowed, stuffed, or ignored.

Jack continued to sit perfectly still, and wait for her to answer him fully.

"He locked my arms and legs. And he would come to me again and again to ask only my name. I would not say…" she paused. "so he would beat me. Sometimes he would be hitting me with his fists…sometimes he had…some kind of stick." She halted again. The anxiety of giving voice to the experience began to make her feel sick. Her hands were shaking and her breath got quicker, still.

Jack was at war with himself. Even though he was prying the information out of her, he wanted to stop her. He didn't want to hear her say the things she was saying. It was one thing to know the possibility, even probability, of the details of the abuse she suffered. It was another thing entirely to hear her own voice give life to the images his mind conjured. But something inside him worked to overcome the instinct to run from the knowledge. He felt the need to know, but even more he knew she needed to tell someone. The longer she went without speaking it the harder it would become and the more she would disintegrate. He would sit here and banish the fear he felt at confronting the specifics because it was the right thing to do.

With a low, controlled tone he encouraged her, "What else?"

Shaboni gripped the bed covers in her hands, twisting and untwisting them fitfully. "He climbed on the table." She stopped again. The words pushed at her from the inside, but fear wedged a fist in her throat making them feel impossible to say. She wrapped the blanket around her hand pulling it tighter and tighter, letting the sensation of it distract her from the suffocating terror that threatened her. Her breath came in shallow huffs; shoulders hitched towards her ears.

Sensing she was panicking, Jack tried to calm her, "Shaboni, it's okay. These are just the words. It happened already. That was the worst of it, but it won't be if you don't talk about it. I know it doesn't feel like it, but the words can't actually hurt you; not the way he did. You already lived through it. These are just the words."

She swallowed against the thickness in her throat, mouth dry, and tried again, "He climbed on the table and was pushing a knife…," _'breathe…keep breathing'_, "he cut with the knife between my legs. He put his face above me…his hair…," the words began coming in a disjointed jumble as she started to sink into the sensations of the memory. "I could taste-"

"Shaboni," Jack interrupted her before she could sink deeper into the storm of memories. Her face turned up to meet his eyes, but she didn't seem to be seeing him really. For the first time since he woke up he moved, leaning forward in his chair to rest his elbows on his knees. His eyes didn't waver. "I'm going to ask you this question, okay? All you have to do is say yes or no." She nodded. "Did he rape you?"

There was a beat; an impossible second that stretched like a wire between them, where she didn't answer. It lasted long enough for Jack's gut to twist as the fear he'd felt for her reasserted itself. Then, before he had a chance to think anything about the nature of her silence, she responded in a small voice, "No." She started shaking her head slowly, then more insistently, "No, no. He was always making me think he was going to, but he never took it that far." She fell silent, watching him as if fearing he might run out of the room.

Jack leaned back against the back of the chair and stretched his long legs in front of him, releasing some of the knotted tension that had wound up his muscles. She was sitting deathly still, eyeing him with an obvious fear for how he might react to what she had told him. He knew he needed to say something, but he wasn't sure what to say. His mind flashed back suddenly to the first time he had to describe what had been done to him when he'd been captured and tortured in an Iraqi prison. He had known then that the priest he'd gone to hadn't judged him, but the fear was still there. He felt it for months after he was rescued: that everyone who knew where he'd been didn't see him the same. Hell, he thought, most of them acted like they didn't see him at all when he returned. He chose his next words as carefully as he could.

"Asclepius told us that you never revealed your name to Chiron."

She cocked her head and scrunched up her brow, confused by his response. "I did not."

"I don't think I would have made it that long. You were there for four weeks. From what we were told Chiron came to you nearly every day while you were in that hellhole. I've been interrogated by the Goa'uld before." At that revelation she lifted her eyebrows, surprised. "They are evil bastards, Shaboni; every last one of them. The fact that you held out as long as you did is a testament to the success of the training you've received, but more than that, it's really good proof that you are as strong-minded as anyone I've known. What the NID did to you…" and he paused as the ire he'd suppressed over that incident washed over him anew, "…the weapon they used on you could have destroyed your mind. Clearly it didn't." For Jack, it was quite a speech. He simply wanted to remind her that even though she'd been through hell, she needn't forget who she is. No one had taken her _self_ from her.

Shaboni sat there on the bed with the covers twisted in knots around her hands staring at Colonel O'Neill. His face was passive, giving away nothing. But his words had found their mark. He was right. Chiron had tried to take everything away from her, but in the end it was she who did the taking. He was dead, rotting away on a planet hundreds of light years from Earth and she was going on with life.

Jack watched the realization that it was actually all just memory now wash over her features. He knew that she was going to be okay. It would take a while, and she would need help getting there, but she wasn't going to let it destroy her from the inside. He couldn't help but smile. And he got butterflies in his stomach when, in return, she smiled back.

They grinned at each other for a moment until the other matter that had been bugging him decided to raise its hand and get called on. His face fell and he cut to the chase, "Why didn't you come to me when Mayborne told you I'd lied?" Her smile vanished and she dropped her eyes. "No, look at me, Shaboni," he demanded. She slowly met his eyes once more. "Why? Had I not earned your trust?"

Her expression softened and she explained, "He would not let me contact you, Jack. He was saying that my position on one of his teams was contingent on not contacting anyone in the SGC. I was already taken away from Colorado before I knew the details of his offer, and I was given only five minutes to decide. I wanted to ask you, but Colonel Mayborne showed me documents that he claimed were coming from the SGC to prove his claim. I am sorry, Jack. I know now I should never have been believing that you lied to me." Her eyes pleaded for him to understand.

He couldn't deny that he did, in fact, understand, but he still felt very angry. He no longer felt that anger directed at her. But in the rising fury of his mind he found it hard not to consider shooting Harry Mayborne, yet again.

Shaboni interrupted his revenge fantasy, "He has damaged us both." Her eyes stared off into the distance and he could tell that she was entertaining ideas very similar to his. A plan started to formulate in his mind.


	16. Chapter 16

"He _lied_ to her, Sir!" Jack sat at the conference table with the rest of SG-1 and General Hammond.

"I know that, Jack. And I spoke directly with the Secretary of the Air Force, but he refused to change his mind."

"So what was he all worked up about in the first place? You said he wanted us to go get her as a favor to him!?" Jack's voice was getting tighter and tighter.

"It is my understanding that the other members of Mayborne's team have all refused to testify against him in exchange for a lesser sentence. SAF/OS is hoping to secure Shaboni's testimony. In return he has arranged with the Attorney General to have her deported and no charges will be brought against her."

"This is insane!" Jack huffed.

"Sir, when are the SFs coming to get her?" Major Carter asked.

"As soon as Dr. Frasier says she is well enough to travel. I'm sorry, people, there isn't anything more I can do. You're dismissed." General Hammond stood, with SG-1 following suit, and strode from the room.

Daniel dropped back into chair and sighed heavily. Jack walked to the observation window and looked down and the Stargate. He had, once upon a time, hoped she would take the invitation to join the SGC. There had been a real possibility that she would be training for, then going on offworld missions. Now, he realized, because of Mayborne that would never be. It made him angry: she would have been a real asset to the SGC. Now, he realized, he would probably never see her again.

Teal'c and Sam joined him next to the window. Teal'c quietly pondered, "Is there nothing that can be done?"

Sam answered him, "No. I really don't think there is. This one is way bigger than us."

The idea he'd had earlier started niggling at him again. If she was going to have to return to Israel as soon as she was able, he would simply have to see to it that he could work his plan before she got her traveling orders. He turned around suddenly and said, "Daniel, come with me," and left the briefing room with all three of them staring at his back confused. He called from the corridor, "Now, Daniel!" Daniel jumped up and followed him, having no idea where they were going.

When he caught up with Jack in the elevator he asked, "What are we doing?"

"I'm not entirely sure."

"When will you know?"

"As soon as possible."

"And how do I figure in to this?"

"Again, I'm not entirely sure."

"Will you tell me when you do?"

"You'll know as soon as I do."

The doors opened on level 21 and the two men walked into the corridor leading to the infirmary. They stood there for several moments, Daniel staring at Jack and Jack spinning his wheels.

"Okay, here's what I want you to do: I want you to stand next to me and look earnest and plaintive."

"Earnest and plaintive?" Daniel looked at the colonel like he was speaking gibberish, which would have been just about the only language Daniel wouldn't recognize.

"Yes, look earnest and plaintive and do it in Dr. Frasier's direction, okay?"

Daniel paused for a moment then said, "Why?"

"Because you're really good at it and she never says no to you."

They entered her office, Jack screwing up the courage to ask for a favor that would be violating a gazillion regulations, and Daniel doing his best to look earnest and plaintive.

* * *

"Are you ready to be telling me where we are going?" Shaboni was sitting in the cab of Jack's truck riding through the streets of Colorado Springs. She watched as the trees and cars went past, not recognizing much of anything.

"You'll know where we're going when we get there," he promised.

She was doing better. She could even stand on her injured feet for a few minutes, but Janet had declared walking off-limits for another week. Shaboni was still having bad dreams, but they had discovered that the only time she would have a night terror was when she had taken pain medication before going to sleep. In order to prevent the problem from arising she had eschewed all pain medication. She was beginning to feel stronger and the light had returned to her eyes. Jack had enjoyed getting to spend time with her when she was actually awake and talking. They'd shared stories of training and early missions, anything that felt comfortable to talk about. She explained to him what she'd been up to since leaving the SGC the first time. And he'd told her about his mission to bust the illegal offworld thievery of the NID.

That story had brought darkness to her eyes. He could see that she was haunted by her decision to follow Mayborne. He could only hope that what he was doing for her now would give her some sense of release…some closure.

They drove onto Peterson AFB and Jack parked the truck outside the administrative building that housed the brig. He grabbed the wheelchair out of the bed of his truck and helped her into it, then pushed her inside.

After signing in at the appropriate station he pushed her chair to the holding room where he and Teal'c had met with Mayborne a few weeks earlier. He pushed her up to the table. When he sat beside her she asked him again, "What are we doing, Jack? Why are we here?"

Before he could answer the door opposite them opened and Colonel Harry Mayborne was led in just as he'd been before: cuffed, shackled, and chained. He shuffled forward in flip flops to the chair on his side of the table. The sound of his shuffling feet gave Shaboni a stab of fear, taking her back to the sound of Nathan entering her cell day after day with his sandal-shod feet and water bucket. But she quickly suppressed the sensation in favor of focusing on what was transpiring before her. A sudden delicious realization of just what Jack had done here dawned on her. The two stole a quick glance at each other, fire and understanding in their eyes.

"Hello, Jack," Mayborne inclined his head grinning, "Shaboni."

"That would be Captain Uziel to you, Mayborne," Jack reminded him brightly.

"Very well, Captain Uziel," he turned his attention to her. "What brings you to my little corner of prison?"

Neither of them spoke. When Mayborne looked back at Jack, they locked eyes. Jack allowed a slow, self-satisfied, and mysterious smile to transform his face. With equal deliberate slowness, he rose from the table and stood grinning down at Mayborne.

"Jack?" The haughty expression that Mayborne had been wearing only a moment ago dropped from his face.

Colonel O'Neill turned where he was standing and looked down at Shaboni, still smiling. "He's all yours," was all he said. He leaned down and planted a confident kiss on the top of her head then started walking for the door.

"Jack? Wha…where are you going?" An edge of panic crept into his voice.

Jack said nothing. He knocked on the window of the door and was let out by the SF standing in the hall. As the door was closing he could hear Mayborne calling from inside, "Jack! Wait! Come back!"

He suppressed a chuckle as he told the SF, "We better stay close and keep an eye on them. There's no telling what she's gonna do to him."

-Fin


End file.
